


Chemical Imbalance

by JadenSilver



Series: Chemical Imbalance [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Action/Adventure, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 71
Words: 146,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1740032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadenSilver/pseuds/JadenSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Project Freelancer wasn't the only group hoping to end the war. The UNSC funded many other groups during this time, hoping to find that "magic bullet" to defeat the Covenant. One such program was Project Imbalance. When Imbalance's leader is also corrupt, its subjects seek help from the only other people in the universe who might understand their betrayal; the Reds and Blues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Watchful

“Are you sure it’s them?” the voice crackles through my helmet.

“Pretty sure” I whisper back.

“But are you SURE?” the voice asks more forcefully.

“As sure as I can be” I say, irritated.

“That doesn’t sound very sure.” The voice in my ear sounds skeptical.

“What do you want form me, Nick? You know I can’t be certain until I talk to them.”

“And you know we can’t risk exposure for a false alarm. It was bad enough the last time…”

“Hey, you know that wasn’t my fault,” I say defensively.

“I know that, Si. Neon should have known better. Nobody’s blaming you.” Nick sighs, and I can almost see the tired look on his face. “That still doesn’t change the fact that we need to be careful. We can’t afford to lose any more family.”

“I know” I say, sighing as well. Losing Neon had been terrible, but the fact that all we’d gotten in return was some red nut babbling about a flag had felt like salt in the wound. Nickel’s right to warn me, but I don’t need the reminder. It’s my family’s ass on the line, too.

“So, what are they doing?” he finally asks.                                                                       

“Not much. Standing, talking, walk a few steps, talking some more. It’s kind of boring.”

“They’re not planning some secret cool thing or something?” Nick asks hopefully.

“God, you’re such a nerd” I groan. “They’re just standing around bitching about how all they’re doing is standing around. It’s not some great drama or something.”

“When do you plan on approaching them?”

“Tomorrow” I say. “I’ve only scouted the reds and I still need to check where the blues are set up. It’s strange. They seem determined to maintain separate bases even though they’re no longer fighting each other.”

“I guess old habits die hard” Nick muses.

“Those habits will die a lot easier once we get their help.”

“You really think they’ll help us?”

“They took down project Freelancer. I think it’s a safe bet to say they’ll sympathize with fighting a corrupt scientist hiding from justice.”

“Still” Nick says, “after all they’ve been through, they might just want to move on with their lives. Maybe they’ve had their fill of fighting for justice.”

“Tough” I say, gritting my teeth. “Whether they like it or not, they’re going to help us. They have as much a stake in this as we do.” There’s no response. “What? You think Carbon will abandon us?”

“Even if Car remembers us, and let’s face it that’s a slim chance. But even if he does, that doesn’t guarantee he’ll want to rejoin. And even if he does, his friends might not want to follow him.”

“We don’t have any other choice” I say quietly. “We’ve tried everything else. If this doesn’t work, you know what will happen to us. The UNSC will kill us all without a second thought. Some of us might be able to run, but not all of us. The kids certainly can’t. Lico, Rubi, Franc. None of them would survive five minutes of the experiments they’d put us through. We have to find Doctor Han. It’s the only leverage we’ll ever be able to get.”

“Alright, I get it. Geez, you don’t have to give me the whole speech.” Nick pauses for a moment before continuing. “Listen, Ruth just told me someone’s trying to run a trace on the radios. I’ve gotta go before they figure out my position. Good luck out there.”

“Thanks. Same to you.”

“Don’t get killed” he says half jokingly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m just saying, it was nice to have something to do for a change.” Simmons says defensively.

“We almost died, and now we’re stranded on some unknown planet in the middle of nowhere!” Grif nearly screams.

“Yeah, but you have to admit it was exciting. It was like being real soldiers.”

“It was too much work, if you ask me” Grif grumbles.

“You say that about everything. I bet if you could find a way to survive without breathing, you would decide that was too much work too.”

“Breathing does get tiring” Grif says wistfully.

“You’re-“ Simmons stops and turns around quickly. “Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“Something behind us, in the bushes,” Simmons points to where he heard the noise. “I thought I heard voices and rustling.”

“It’s probably just a bird” Grif says dismissively.

“You don’t know that. We’re on an alien planet. It could be anything!”

“I’ll bet you ten dollars it’s a bird.”

“How will we know if you’re right?”

“Easy, if it’s not a bird, then it’s probably some big alien monster which will come out of the bushes and tear your face off, and you win the bet. If it is a bird, it’ll stay in the bushes and we’ll never see it, because birds don’t do shit.”

“That doesn’t make any sense! Just because it’s not a bird doesn’t mean it’s a monster. Like I said, it could be anything.”

“Fine, then go over there and see what it is.”

“What?! I’m not going over there! It could be dangerous.”

“Then you forfeit and I win the bet” Grif says happily.

“I never agreed to that!” Simmons cries, indignant. “You’re the one who wanted to bet in the first place. You should go check it out.”

Grif looks at the distance to the bushes and shakes his head. “Nah, too far. That’s way too much work for a bet.”

“It’s four feet!”

They both stop and listen for a moment, but hear nothing. “Well, whatever it was, it’s gone now” Grif says.

 

* * *

 

I step out of the bushes cautiously, looking every direction to make sure no one can see me. The coast is clear. I sprint forward and hide in the shadow of the damaged engines. Hearing the whir of the machinery, I silently thank Yttri for thinking to make my armor radiation proof. I hope that the Freelancer and Sim-Trooper armor is as well. I hate to think I could have come all this way only to have them all die of cancer a few weeks from now. I see someone in the distance and focus the binocular feature in my helmet. Blue armor with yellow accenting. I check my files, but the only soldier listed with yellow accenting is Agent Washington, and his armor is supposed to be black. I look again and study the armor closer. It’s hard to see, but there are a few subtle differences in the helmet and shoulders from what should be seen on a Sim-Trooper. He must have seen fit to repaint his armor.

Another soldier approaches Agent Washington and I begin to compare his face to the pictures in the files. Dark blue and clearly outdated armor. This must be the one they call Caboose. My heart skips a beat as I study him. Even with the armor, I’d recognize him anywhere. Everything from the way he walks to the scent drifting in my direction is familiar to me. This definitely confirms it. These are the ones I’m looking for.

A piece of their conversation drifts my way and I strain to hear it. I can’t make out all the details, but I know they’re talking about the AI and the other Freelancer, Agent Carolina, who used to be with them. Apparently, they both ran off without saying where they were going or what they were doing. Damn. I could have used those two, especially the AI. According to rumors he could remember everything that ever happened with project Freelancer, including all their questionable business deals. I need that information.

I shake my head. It’s no use griping over something I can’t change. I’ll just have to hope I can track them down later. For now, I need to find a place to rest for the night. It’s already starting to get dark, and I need to be rested and ready for tomorrow. It’ll take a lot of convincing just to get them to not shoot at me, and I really don’t want to get shot at.


	2. Greetings

The next morning, the Blues receive a message from Sarge asking to meet them near the entrance to the cave. The Reds receive a similar message from Wash. I hid in the cave the night before to wait for them. When both teams arrive, they quickly realize that none of them had sent the messages.

“I don’t understand” Agent Washington says. “If you didn’t tell us to come here, then who did?”

“That would be me” I say, stepping out of the cave. I raise my hands over my head as each of them trains their rifles on me. “Sorry for the deception, but I needed all of you in one place so we could talk.”

“Who are you?” Wash asks, stepping forward.

“My name is Silver” I answer.

Before Wash has a chance to ask me anything else, Caboose steps in front of him and stares at me. “Silver? Is that really you?” He asks loudly.

I smile and lower my hands. “Yep. It’s me. Nice to see you again, Carbon.” Caboose reaches out and hugs me with such force I think my ribs are going to crack. “Whoa, careful, Carbon. Not so tight” I say, squeezing out of his grip.

“Sorry” Caboose mutters sheepishly.

“Hold on, you two need to explain what’s going on here” Wash says. “Caboose, you know this girl?”

“Oh, yes” Caboose says, turning to face Wash and the others. “She is my older sister.”

“Hi”, I say, waving while keeping one arm around Caboose’s shoulder.

“Why are you here?” Wash asks. “And why do you keep calling him Carbon?”

“I’m calling him Carbon because that’s his name” I say. I let go of Caboose and step back to where I’m facing the entire group. “As for why I’m here, I thought that would be obvious. I’m here to rescue you.” I wait a moment for their cheers to die down before adding “and, I need your help.”

“I knew it! There’s always some sort of catch” Grif mutters.

“What do you need our help with?” Wash asks suspiciously.

“I need you to help me track down a war criminal scientist who’s hiding from the UNSC.”

“We just did that like, a week ago” Tucker says. “The Director is gone.”

“Different scientist” I say. “Have any of you ever heard of Doctor Han?”

“Oh! Yes! I have heard of her” Caboose shouts.

“I know you have, Carbon. I was asking them” I explain to him.

“The name does sound familiar” Wash says after thinking for a moment.

“She was one of many working on the UNSC’s Samson Initiative, the program they started at the beginning of the war to find a way to combat the naturally stronger and faster Covenant races. Doctor Han, along with the famous Doctor Halsey, Project Freelancer’s Director, Leonard Church, and many others, was a part of this program. They each received funding from the UNSC for the research and development of super soldiers. In the end, it was Dr. Halsey’s Spartans that won the war. Still, even after the war was over, many of the researchers continued their work. Dr. Han was one of the ones who kept working after the war.

“Dr. Han took a different approach to the problem than the others did. All of them wanted to find a way to augment human abilities with machinery. Dr. Han wanted to augment humanity from within. She was a geneticist. She thought that if she could alter a human’s genetic code to allow for capabilities like those of the Covenant, then we would be able to beat them. The process was a success, but the subjects she created took too long to grow. It was much more cost beneficial to put armor on an already trained, adult soldier than to raise soldiers from children.”

“Wait” Tucker interrupts me. “You mean she actually grew genetically altered people to train as soldiers?”

I nod my head. “Yes, she did.”

Simmons snorts. “It sounds like those comics Grif is always talking about.”

“It’s very possible that that’s where she got her ideas from” I say.

“How is she a criminal, though?” Wash asks. “I mean, I can see the moral issues with what she did, obviously, but a lot of things like that were overlooked during the war.”

I shake my head. “Dr. Han isn’t in trouble because of her experiments. She’s in trouble because of what she made us do.”

“Us? You mean you’re one of the people she made?”

“Yes” I say. “Sorry, this is all very difficult to explain and this is really the first time I’ve spoken to someone who didn’t already know about it.” I take a deep breath before continuing. “Doctor Han created us to fight the Covenant. We were raised and trained our entire lives to be soldiers. We were each created with abilities derived from either animal DNA or DNA from Covenant species.

“When Master Chief and the Arbiter brought peace between humanity and the covenant, Dr. Han couldn’t accept it. Her family had died because of the war and she wanted revenge. Rather than telling us that the war was over, she told us it was finally time to use our training. She sent two experiments, myself and one other, to a Sangheli colony. Dr. Han told us we would be attacking a high value military target. The truth was that we were committing genocide.” I close my eyes for a moment, trying to shut out the memories. “I realized what was happening eventually, although it was too late to stop the fight from happening. I had already killed so many before I realized we had been lied to. I tried to explain to the people there what had happened, but they wouldn’t listen and just tried to shoot me. I really can’t blame them, considering what I had done. I managed to get off that planet and went back to confront Dr. Han, but she wasn’t there. She had sent all the other experiments on similar missions to mine, and then run. I guess she realized we would figure out what had happened, or she knew the UNSC would come after her.

“I waited in the lab for a long time. I had no idea where to go or what to do. Eventually the other experiments came back. They were all scared and confused. We told each other what had happened and decided our best chance was to run. We knew we would be executed for our crimes. I would have accepted it if it was just me, but I couldn’t let he others be killed. Some of them are still children. I thought our only chance would be to find Dr. Han. Maybe then we could prove that this hadn’t been our fault.”

“Mom did all that?” Caboose asks in a quiet, horrified voice.

I nod. “She’s done a lot of horrible things.”

“What do you need our help for?” Tucker asks. “If you’re so highly trained, why don’t you just find her yourself?”

“Well to start, most of our training comes from books. Aside from myself and a few of the older ones, we don’t have any field experience. It would be nice to have some real soldiers there to help us out.” I look at Wash as I say the last part, knowing from the others’ files that they might not all count as real soldiers. “But the truth is, I actually didn’t come here for you. I came here to find Epsilon.”

“What do you want Church for?” Tucker asks.

“According to his file, he’s the memory fragment of the AI Alpha, who was created from Leonard Church, Project Freelancer’s Director. Dr Han worked with the Director from time to time, and they even traded resources on occasion. I need information on a deal they made that could help me track her down. And the only one left alive who might know about this deal is Epsilon.”

“If you have our files and know about Epsilon, then you’ve obviously hacked the UNSC’s databases” Wash says. I smile sheepishly before he continues. “Why don’t you just get whatever information you need from their records on Project Freelancer?”

I shake my head. “That won’t work. The Director wouldn’t have documented these trades. They were highly illegal.”

“What could he have traded that he would be that paranoid about? The only information he was ever that careful with was stuff involving the AIs.”

“He traded Freelancer tech for some of Doctor Han’s experiments” I explain.

“And by experiments, you mean actual people?” Simmons asks. I nod.

“She actually sold people, genetically enhanced people, to Project Freelancer?” Wash asks in disbelief. I nod again. “Who were they?”

I jerk my thumb at Caboose, who’s standing next to me. “Well, there’s Carbon, for one.”

“Caboose is a super soldier?!” Tucker yells.

“He said she’s his sister. I thought that part was obvious,” Wash comments.

“You can’t have genetically altered people on your team! That’s cheating!” Sarge shouts.

“We do have a robot on our team, sir,” Simmons points out.

“And don’t forget the fact that Simmons is technically a cyborge,” Grif adds.

Sarge grumbles halfheartedly, having no decent argument against this.

“You never wondered why he was so strong?” I ask Tucker.

Tucker shrugs. “We always thought it was God’s way of compensating.”

“I don’t think God had very much to do with this.” I say.

“Okay, so we know Caboose was one of the experiments. Who else?”

Wash looks to me for an answer, but I’m not listening. Something’s caught my attention. I slowly turn in a circle, sniffing the air while looking for any sign of movement.

“What’s wrong?” Wash asks, raising his gun and looking around as well.

“I’m not sure” I say pulling off my helmet. My white hair falls down over my shoulders as I continue searching. “I thought I smelled…” I trail off as I finally recognize the scent in the air. At the same moment I notice the dot of red light on the back of the orange soldier’s head. I tackle him to the ground and shout “Sniper!” at the same moment the shot fires.


	3. Gold

Everyone ducks down and tries to find cover. I check that the orange soldier is ok before dodging behind some rocks, dragging the Sim-Trooper with me. “Thanks” he says as he straightens his helmet and turns off the safety on his gun.

“It’s Grif, right?” I ask as I pull a small pistol from my waist.

“Yeah” Grif says, looking around as he tries to determine where the sniper shots are coming from.

“I need you to do me a favor.” I pick up a stick from the ground and hand it to him. “Take off your helmet and use this to lift it over the top of the rock.”

“Why?” Grif asks as he pulls his helmet off.

“Just do it” I say, crawling to the edge of the cover. He nods and puts the helmet on the stick. “Okay, on my mark.” I wait a few seconds, listening to the sniper fire. “Mark!” I shout. The helmet goes up and I peak around the corner just in time to see the movement of the sniper turning to aim for it.

A shot goes off and hits the stick under the helmet, causing it to fall and hit Grif on the head. “Oww” he moans.

I pick up the helmet and hand it back to him. “You should put this back on now. Thanks!” Before he has a chance to respond, I dodge out from behind the rock and into the cave where Wash and the others are hiding.

“Should I follow you?” Grif shouts after me.

“Yes!” Sarge says cheerily.

“No!” I yell. “Wait there until we can give you some cover fire!” I crouch down at the entrance to the cave and peek around the corner. There’s a ledge on the side of the cliff where I assume the sniper is hiding. It’s hard to spot, but I can see the barrel of a rifle in the bushes on the cliff ledge. I wave Wash over and point it out to him. “That’s our sniper.”

“Think you can hit him from here?” Wash asks.

“Probably” I say, holstering my pistol. “But if it’s who I think it is, I don’t want to.”

“What do we do now?” Simmons asks. “We can’t just leave Grif out there!”

“Sure we can” Sarge says. “One soldier is a perfectly acceptable loss.”

Wash sighs, and I can imagine him rolling his eyes behind his visor. “Don’t worry” I say, patting him on the shoulder. “I have a plan. Carbon!”

Caboose comes and stands by the cave opening with us. “Hello!” He says.

I recognize this as his go to response when he’s confused. “Someone’s shooting at us” I explain to him.

“That is not good” Caboose says seriously.

“No, it’s not” I confirm. “But we’re going to stop him. Do you remember when we used to play darts?”

“Oh, yes!” Caboose says happily. “I love that game! I am very good at it!”

I point to a tree on the cliff ledge. “That’s the target.” I then point to the area of the ledge where the sniper is hiding. “And that’s the wall. Now remember, you can’t hit the wall. Hitting the wall is bad.”

“Okay!” Caboose says.

“Okay” I say. I climb onto his shoulder and crouch down, balancing by holding his hand. “Get Grif over here once he stops shooting” I tell Wash before squeezing Caboose’s hand. Caboose stands up and in one smooth motion throws me at the ledge where the sniper is hiding.

“Whoa!” I hear the Sim-Troopers and Wash yell simultaneously.

A bullet whizzes past my head as I fly through the air. I reach out my hands and hit the sniper square in the chest, knocking him down. I hear Wash and the reds shouting and hope they got Grif to the cave. I roll to the side and jump to my feet at the same time as my opponent. Despite the fact that he’s wearing a helmet, I recognize him immediately. “Gold.”

He responds with a punch to my head, which I barely dodge. “Come on, Gold, talk to me. We can work this out.” I say while continuing to dodge his attacks.

“There’s nothing to talk about” Gold says, finally stopping his attacks.

“Let me help you” I say, taking a cautious step forward.

“I don’t need help from a traitor” Gold snarls. He pulls a pistol from his belt and shoots at me. I roll to the side and aim a kick at his ribs. He sidesteps this and aims the gun at me once again. I kick the gun out of his hand while flipping backward, landing in a crouch.

“I’m not a traitor” I growl. “Mom lied to you. She lied to all of us.”

“I don’t believe that” Gold says, edging toward his gun on the ground.

I shake my head. “She won’t let you believe it. She’s controlling you, just like she did to me. She’s using that chip in your head-“

“You’re lying!” Gold yells, cutting me off. “She gave it to me to make me stronger, and faster” he says as he picks up the gun, “and better than you.”

I pull a small knife out of my armor’s sleeve as I back away, the gun still pointed at my chest. “Don’t do this” I warn him.

“You’re a traitor” Gold says, as though he’s trying to convince himself. “You have to die.” With that, he pulls the trigger.


	4. Sibling Rivalry

I dodge to the side and feel the bullet rip through my shoulder. Ignoring the pain, I throw the knife at Gold. It sticks into the back of his hand, making him scream, and he drops the gun. I run forward and kick it out of his reach before tackling him to the ground. We wrestle like this for a few seconds and I can see blood from my shoulder dripping onto his armor. I know I won’t last much longer like this.

Gold flips us over so he’s on top. He punches me in my injured shoulder and I cry out in pain. He pulls a knife from his belt and brings it toward my face. I grab his wrist, trying to keep the knife away. I push with all my might, but Gold has always been stronger than me and I know it’s only a matter of time before I’m overpowered. “Please” I whisper, hoping I’ll somehow get through to him.

Gold’s eyes seem to lose focus for a second. “Silver?” he whispers, pulling the knife back momentarily. Then he snaps back to normal and continues to force the knife down, harder than ever.

I can feel my arms giving in as the blade inches toward my throat. Just as I think he’s going to win, I hear a long yell of “SON OF A BITCH!” followed by a crash. Gold ignores it until someone pulls him off of me and throws him into the bushes.

Wash reaches down to help me up. “I am never doing that again” he says as we both turn to face Gold.

I try not to laugh as I think of Caboose throwing him like he did with me. “Who is this?” Gold asks, gesturing toward Wash.

“Freelancer” I say, trying to put as much confidence into the title as possible. There’s another yell and crash, and Grif stumbles to his feet behind Wash. In the distance I hear Caboose yelling “darts are so much fun!”

“I don’t care what Sarge says, the Grif cannon is the worst idea ever” Grif mumbles as he points his gun at Gold.

Gold, realizing he’s outnumbered and outgunned, hits a button on his wrist and fades from view. “This isn’t over” he says. The sound of his feet running fades into the distance.

“Who was that?” Wash asks as he starts to look for a way down from the ledge.

“My brother, Gold” I say, sinking to the ground. “He’s still working with Dr. Han.”

“Are you okay?” Grif asks, coming up to kneel next to me.

“I’m fine” I mumble, head spinning slightly. “Just a little tired.”

He notices the wound on my shoulder and gasps. “You’re bleeding!”

“It’s nothing” I say, waving him away and climbing to my feet. “I’ll be fine.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing” Wash says, holding one of my arms to keep me steady.

I shake his hand off my arm and turn on my radio. “Nick, are you there?”

“Yep” he answers cheerily in my helmet. “And I have a surprise for you!”

“Get the ship and come pick us up” I say, ignoring his last comment. “We need to get out of here fast.”

“What’s wrong?” Nick asks when he hears my tone.

“Gold was here.”

“Was he okay? Were you able to talk to him?” Nick asks hopefully.

“No” I answer shortly. “He won’t stay away for long. We need to move.”

“We are almost there” Nick says. “Just give us a few minutes.”

“See you then” I say before shutting off my radio. I turn and start climbing down from the ledge. When I’m halfway down, my left hand slips and I nearly fall. I look at my hand and see that it’s covered in blood, along with the rest of my arm. I think that maybe I’ve lost more blood than I thought before picking up the pace.

Once I reach the bottom, Wash and Grif come down. “Climbing sucks” Grif grumbles as he flops onto his back.

Wash waves for the others still waiting in the caves to come join us before turning to face me. “Let me take a look at your shoulder.”

I help him remove the left shoulder plate of my armor. “Do you have any medical training?”

“I started training as a field medic before I joined project Freelancer, but I never finished.”

“I guess that’s better than nothing” I joke.

Wash smiles, but his face turns serious when he finally sees the wound uncovered. He tells me to sit before calling one of the other soldiers over. “Tucker, come here.” Tucker kneels next to me and Wash places his hands over the hole in my shoulder. “Keep pressure here” he says. He then turns to Caboose. “Run back to blue base and get some medical supplies.”

“No” I say before Caboose has a chance to do what Wash said. “Nick will be here soon. We need to wait.”

“We need to stop the bleeding” Wash says.

“Whatever supplies you need will be on the ship. We can’t afford to split up before it gets here.” Wash doesn’t look convinced, so I add “Gold is still out there. Do you think Carbon could handle him alone?”

“No” he says reluctantly.

“We just have to wait. They’re almost here.”

A few seconds after I finish speaking, I hear the drone of a Pelican flying in the distance. It gets louder and louder until we finally see it fly into view over the top of the cliff. It lands a few meters away and the back opens.

Nick steps out of the back of the ship, smiling. “Somebody call for a Taxi?” The older man asks.

“Nerd” I say, standing up with Wash’s help and walking over to meet him.

Nick gives me a quick hug before noticing my shoulder. “You don’t look too good” he says, concern in his voice.

“You’re one to talk” I say, ruffling some of his grey hair.

“She needs medical attention” Wash says. “Do you have any supplies on that ship?”

“Even better” Nick says, pointing to the ramp he had just walked down. “We have a medic.”

Standing on the ramp behind Nick is a man in purple armor, the UNSC medics’ symbol clear on his shoulder.

“Doc?” Simmons asks.

“Don’t forget me” comes a cheery voice from behind Doc. A man in pink armor steps around him to wave at everybody.

“And Donut” Grif groans. “That’s just great.”

“They were trying to find someone to give them a ride to this planet. Something about a distress call from their friends” Nick explains. “Anyway, when they told me their names I recognized them from the Freelancer files we’d stolen, so I thought I should pick them up.”

“Told you I’d bring help” Donut says smugly.

“Okay, people, all aboard” I say, waving them toward the pelican. “You can catch up once we get moving.”

“She’s right” Wash says, climbing into the back of the ship. “I don’t want to be around if that guy comes back.” Everyone follows him into the ship, and within a few minutes we take off.


	5. Belated Eulogy

I watch Doc as he finishes patching up my shoulder. “That should stop the bleeding and prevent infection” he says a little uncertainly.

“Thanks” I say. He picks up his med bag and moves to a seat on the other end of the pelican.

I turn to look at Wash. He’s been sitting quietly ever since we got rescued, watching Doc work on my shoulder. I know he still has a lot of questions, but he seems like he doesn’t know where to start.

“Ahem” I say, pretending to clear my throat. Wash jumps slightly, but says nothing. “Have you decided yet?” I ask, keeping my voice low so hopefully only he can hear.

“Decided what?” He asks, also speaking quietly.

“If you’re gonna help us” I clarify.

Wash thinks for a moment before finally answering. “I don’t know. After everything we’ve been through, I don’t know if these guys are ready to take on something like this again.”

I look at the other soldiers sitting around us, nodding. “They’re not exactly the legendary heroes I’ve heard of.”

“Legendary heroes?” Wash asks.

“Oh yeah. After you took down the Director, everyone started talking about you. The Reds and Blues of Project Freelancer, soldiers for justice.” I say it in my best movie announcer voice, and we both laugh slightly. “Of course, I started watching you long before that. I saw everything that went down with Project Freelancer, and I know that half the time you guys were just trying to survive.”

“Why were you watching us?” Wash asks.

“I knew some of my brothers and sisters had been sold to the Director. I had hoped to find out what happened to them and if they were okay.” I explain.

“Did you?”

I shake my head. “Their names were changed when they joined the Project. The Director never documented where he recruited his agents from, so I couldn’t tell which of them were my family.”

“Well, if they all got hidden as Sim-Troopers like Caboose, it’ll be nearly impossible to find them” Wash says. “But if any of them were actual Freelancers, then I probably know them. How many were there?”

I think for a moment. “Three that I know of. There was Carbon, who you already know” I say, gesturing toward Caboose. “Then there was Zinc. I didn’t know her very well, but I heard she became a pilot.”

“Could be 479er” Wash muses. “She was the pilot who flew us to all of our missions.”

“Was she good?”

“Yeah. Best I’ve ever seen, despite the fact that we crashed so often. She had a bit of an attitude, too.”

I think about it for a minute. “It’s possible. I’ll see if we have any information on her. Do you know where she went after Project Freelancer shut down?”

“No, but I’d guess she got a job flying for the UNSC.”

I’m quiet for a while, thinking about this possibility, before I continue. “After Zinc and Carbon, the only other one I know about is Manganese,” I say. “If I were to bet, I’d say he was most likely to succeed as a Freelancer.”

“Can you describe him?” Wash asks.

“Huge” I start, drawing out the word for emphasis. “This guy was built like a brick wall, and was the toughest thing you’d ever see. He went by Manny when I knew him, but his name was probably changed. He was strong, even stronger than Carbon. Not very talkative. He didn’t like heights.” I think a bit more before saying “oh, and completely bald.”

Wash looks nervous when he hears this description. “Do you know him?” I ask.

“That… sounds like Maine” Wash says eventually.

“Where is he?” I ask excitedly. “Do you know what happened to him?”

“He, um… He died” Wash says.

My eyes drop to the floor and I clench my fists in frustration. “How? Tell me what happened.”

Wash explains Maine was implanted with the AI Sigma, which drove him crazy and eventually turned him into the Meta. He tells me about how Maine betrayed him and tried to steal the Epsilon AI, and how the reds finally killed him by throwing him off a cliff. Wash hasn’t looked at me the whole time he’s been telling the story, afraid to see my face. When he finishes, he finally gets the courage to look at me. My elbows are on my knees and my head is leaning on my arms with my face aimed down.

“Are you okay?” Wash asks.

I look up and Wash jumps back slightly. I don’t know what I look like, but it must be something terrifying. I can feel tears in my eyes. Even though I understand what happened and why they had to kill Maine, I still feel angry. “You killed him.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“Yes” Wash says, his shoulders drooping. “I didn’t want to. He was my friend, and I think I was one of the only people in Project Freelancer who really knew him, but he didn’t give us a choice. He was crazy. He would have killed all of us to get Epsilon.”

All the anger inside me fades, leaving sorrow to fill its place. “He was my brother. He was the strongest of us. I thought if anyone could have survived Freelancer’s fall, it would be him.” My head falls and my shoulders begin to shake.

Wash cautiously places a hand on my uninjured shoulder, wanting to provide some comfort but not really knowing how. “He didn’t have much of a chance. He was gone before everything went down. The way I see it, we didn’t kill Maine, we killed the Meta. Maine was already dead, replaced by Sigma and Gamma and all the other AIs. Once they were gone, there was nothing of him left, just an animal.”

We sit silently for a while before Wash speaks again. “You know, he talked about you sometimes.”

I look up at him, surprised. “He did?”

“Yeah” Wash nods. “He never said any details, which I can understand now that I’ve met you, but he mentioned having a sister. He said he had a lot of siblings, too many to really count, but he had one sister in particular who was special. He told me he joined Project Freelancer so he could defeat the Covenant, that way his sister wouldn’t have to fight.”

I smile and shake my head. “Manny was always trying to protect me. The first time he saw someone hit me while I was training, he charged into the room and threw the guy into a wall.”

“I think I’m still sore from that!” Nick calls from the front of the ship.

I laugh for a second before growing quiet. “Manny always took care of me. He was always there for me. When I was sick and scared, and didn’t know if I would survive until morning, he stayed with me and kept me company.” My eyes turn back to the floor for a second as I say “he was a good brother.”

“You two were close” Wash says. It’s not a question.

I nod. “We had a lot in common. He was the only one to survive his batch, and so was I.”

“Batch?”

“Most of us were made in batches. There would be anywhere from twenty to a hundred in each batch. In the beginning, nearly all of them died. Their genes wouldn’t be put together properly, and they would start to fall apart.” I explain. “That’s what happened to Manny’s batch. He was the only one left. Dr. Han spent a few more years working on the formula, trying to perfect it, before making my batch, but it wasn’t enough. We all started to die, one by one. The only reason I survived was because I was the last one to start dying. Dr. Han tried to cure each of the others and failed every time, but every time she learned from her mistakes. By the time she got to me, she had finally figured out the cure.”

I stop for a moment, the anger and resentment showing on my face when I think about Dr. Han. Then my face softens as I remember Maine. “Manny stayed with me, though. I didn’t know if the treatment would work and I was so scared, but Manny stayed with me and told me it would be all right. That was the first time anyone had ever made me a promise, rather than just telling me my percent chance of surviving. I knew it was a lie. He couldn’t have possibly known for sure that I would live, but it still made me feel better.” I smile sadly at the memories. “Manny always made me feel better.”

Wash opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by Nick’s voice from the front of the pelican. “Prepare for landing.”

I stand and walk to the back door of the ship while I hear Caboose struggling to get his seatbelt off. “No, you hit this button _then_ push up” I hear Donut explain as he tries to help the blue-clad soldier.

“This chair won’t let me go. It’s a very mean chair!” Caboose shouts.

I smile and shake my head. At least he managed to find some friends while he was gone. I feel a thump as the ship lands and reach for the button to open the door. “Get ready, people. You’re about to meet the rest of the family.”


	6. Meet the Family

Some of the Sim-Troopers, as well as Wash, have taken off their helmets during the trip. When the door opens, I can tell by their faces that what they see is not what they had expected.

“You weren’t kidding when you said they were kids” Tucker remarks.

He’s right. Most of the people waiting to greet us are between ten and fifteen years old. A few look like they could be adults, but it’s clear that Nick and I are the oldest ones here. At least, we were until the reds and blues arrived.

“Silver!” Three little kids run up and latch onto my legs.

“Franc, Lico, Rubi” I say each name as I detach the corresponding child from my legs. “Why don’t you go help Nick unload the pelican while I show our new friends around?”

“Are these really them?” Rubi asks, looking at the Sim-Troopers in awe.

“Yep, it’s them.”

The three kids walk toward the Sim-Troopers slowly, eyes wide. Suddenly, Lico rushes forward and snatches Tucker’s sword off his belt. “This is that alien sword! The one that only works for him!” He says excitedly, showing it to the other two.

“Hey!” Tucker shouts, trying to take the sword away. Lico dodges and runs behind him, still trying to turn the sword on. “That’s mine!” Tucker turns around and begins to chase the blue-haired child.

“Silicon” I say in a no-nonsense warning tone. “Give it back.”

The boy looks at the sword for a second. He then turns and hands it to Tucker, his head drooping dramatically. “Sorry” Lico mumbles quietly.

“It’s fine” Tucker says good-naturedly. “Maybe later I can show you guys how it works. Okay?”

Lico smiles up at him and his mouth splits vertically down the center. Tucker looks surprised for a second, but quickly covers it up. I wave the kids away and they run off to help Nick.

“He’s part Sangheli?” Tucker asks once the kids are gone.

I nod my head. “All three of them are.”

I expect Tucker to say something more about it, but he just smiles and turns to watch the kids.

“He has a kid who’s a Sangheli” Simmons explains while handing me my helmet. “You dropped this back when all the shooting started. I thought you’d want it back.”

I thank him as I grab the helmet. I want to ask more about the apparent cross-species child he just mentioned, but decide it’s not the best time. There are other things we need to talk about.

“Okay, before we get too settled in, we need to-“ I start to talk, but am cut off by a girl a little younger than myself stepping into our group.

“Oh. My. God!” The girl exclaims, looking at Donut. “I love your lightish red armor!”

“Thanks!” Donut says.

“Donut, this is Platinum” I say, gesturing toward the super-model-perfect woman. “We usually call her Tinu. Tinu, this is Private Donut.”

“It matches your eyes so well!” Tinu continues as though I hadn’t even spoken, which is normal for her when she starts talking about fashion. “You know what it needs, though?” She asks.

“Lace” Tinu and Donut say together.

“Oh, I think I have just the thing!” Tinu says, grabbing Donut’s hand and leading him away.

Tucker watches the whole scene unfold before commenting. “If talking about fashion can get a girl like that, then I need to learn more about clothes.”

“You interested in Tinu?” I ask, looking sideways at him.

“She’s like a model” he says. “The only girls I ever meet act like they want to tear my head off. She’s perfect.”

“You haven’t seen her smile yet” I say matter-of-factly. Before Tucker has a chance to ask what this means, I call out “Hey, Tinu!” She turns and faces me from where she’s walked down the hall. “Your hair looks nice” I compliment.

“Thank you!” Tinu says, smiling broadly to reveal an impossibly large mouth filled with razor-like teeth.

She turns to go while I look back at Tucker. He’s gone pale and looks a little scared. “You should see your face” I remark.

Grif, who had also seen Tinu, asks “what is she?”

“If I remember correctly” I say, tapping a finger on my chin while thinking, “she is part crocodile, shark, and grizzly bear.”

Grif looks around at some of the other slightly-off looking people in the base. “You have the weirdest family ever.”

“I read your file, as well as your sister’s” I tell him. “I don’t think you have any room to talk.” Grif doesn’t have an answer to that.

I notice Rhodi talking to Doc and tune into their conversation.

“Most of us have developed very unusual allergies, due to our unique genetics. It’s always a struggle to find medications and treatments that won’t kill us” Rhodi explains.

“I know a lot about holistic and alternative medicine” Doc says excitedly. “I can show you, if you want.” Rhodi agrees and they start walking toward the small medical bay nearby.

At the same time, Caboose starts dragging Grif and Simmons away. “Where are you three going?” I ask.

“I don’t know” Simmons says, trying to pull his wrist out of Caboose’s grip. “He said he wanted to show us something.”

“I want them to see Mango and Peppermint” Caboose says excitedly.

I laugh slightly as I recognize the names. “Okay, but be careful” I tell him.

“This is gonna be so much fun!” Caboose says as he continues to drag the two red soldiers away.

“And remember, do not pet them!” I call after him as they disappear around a corner.

“Who are Mango and Peppermint?” Wash asks.

“They’re the spiky cats” I answer.

“Wait, those were a real thing?” Sarge asks.

I nod. “Dr. Han made them to test a gene splicing technique. It worked, and ever since then we’ve had two cat porcupine things that tend to wander around the labs.” There’s a shout from down the hall where Caboose had disappeared. “Carbon never could figure out that he shouldn’t pet them, though.”

“Tucker, could you-?” Wash starts to ask.

“I’ll go make sure he doesn’t hurt himself too much” Tucker says, nodding. He sprints off down the hall.

I look at Sarge and Wash. I had planned on talking to all of the Sim-Troopers, but I guess the two leaders will work too. It might even be better to talk to them alone before discussing things with the rest of their teams. “Follow me” I say. I turn and lead them down a hall and further into the base.


	7. Gathering Allegiance

“What is this place?” Wash asks.

“One of Dr. Han’s secret testing facilities. She had a few of them hidden on different planets, out of the prying eyes of the UNSC” I explain. “We checked them all when we first started looking for her, but had no luck. She must be hiding somewhere she never told us about.”

We turn down another corridor, and I gesture to some of the locked doors we pass. “We thought this place would be a good base of operations, since the UNSC doesn’t know it exists, although it is a little bigger than we need.”

We finally reach the room I was looking for and I usher the two soldiers in. The room’s unfurnished except for a large table in the center of the floor. The table is scattered with papers, and floating above it is a holo-board with maps and charts and personal notes. “This is where we’ve been keeping all the information we have on Mom” I say, setting my helmet on the table.

I hit a button to close the hologram, and another to bring up some chairs from the floor. “Please, sit” I say. I myself pick a seat that allows me to look at both men while also having a clear view of the door. I think from Washington’s face that he’s noticed this strategic positioning, but he doesn’t comment on it.

Wash and Sarge both sit, the latter removing his helmet and placing it on the table. I vaguely remember that Wash left his helmet in the pelican and make a mental note to track it down and return it to him later. I sit silently for a moment, gathering my thoughts, while Wash and Sarge shift nervously.

“Do you have your answer yet?” I ask finally.

Sarge looks as though he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. Wash does, however, so he answers. “I’m not sure. I know Caboose wants to help, and I think Tucker will too, same as me. As for the reds, well, I don’t know them as well.” Wash looks at Sarge when he’s done talking.

Sarge clears his throat before answering. “Well, on the one hand we just finished a big mission, which would usually be grounds for some leave time. But since Grif has already used up both his and Simmons vacation days for the next seven years, I don’t think that will be a problem.” Sarge looks me in the eyes as he says “the real question is: what does any of this have to do with us? We’re not part of the UNSC anymore. Whatever happens between you and them is their business. What place do we have in this fight?”

I nod my head, absorbing his words. I want to shout; to call him selfish and ask if he cares about the innocent people who could die because of this. Instead, I keep myself calm as I speak, relying on the negotiation techniques I’ve seen Dr Han use while arguing for the project’s funding.

“You’re right” I say finally, meeting his eyes. “You have no stakes in this, and you have no obligation to help us. What I’m asking you to do will not be easy. Both your people and yourself could very well be injured or even die doing this, and there is no guarantee we will succeed. I have no right to demand your help, and I can’t order you to do this. All I can do is ask that you help me save my family.”

Sarge grunts a few times, trying to find his words. I can tell he’s not used to conversations that don’t involve shouting at someone. “Ah hell” he says finally. “We’ll do it. We have nothing better to do, and I’d hate to let Grif sit around doing nothing when we could be risking our lives. Besides, we wouldn’t be red team if we didn’t dive head first into battle like heroes!”

I thank him before he goes to find the rest of his team, mentioning something about making Grif pet one of the cats. I watch him go and breathe a sigh of relief. Things are going better than I had expected, aside from the bullet hole in my shoulder.

“You might want to talk to them yourself” Wash says from behind me.

I turn around quickly, feeling slightly startled. I had almost forgotten he was there. “What do you mean?”

“The reds” Wash explains. “You should probably ask them personally. It’s like Sarge said; we’re not military anymore. We don’t work for the UNSC and we don’t have to follow orders. Just because Sarge says they’ll help you, it doesn’t mean they all want to.”

I acknowledge this. I need everyone here on the same page, which means all of the Sim-Troopers need to choose this for themselves. Loyalty in a few is more valuable than any numbers.

“What should I say to them?” I ask.

“Just, be sincere” he says. “They’re good people. Even if they don’t understand what you’ve been through like I do, they’ll still care, although they probably won’t show it.”

“You understand what we’ve been through?”

“I was betrayed too” Wash says. “I know it’s not the same, losing a team as opposed to losing your family, but I know how it feels to question everything. I know what it’s like to not want to trust.”

There’s a long pause as I consider this. “I never gave up on trust entirely” I say. “I learned not to trust mom when she betrayed us, but I never stopped trusting my brothers and sisters. I know they’ll always have my back.”

“What about that one who attacked us earlier?”

“That… wasn’t his fault” I say quietly.

“There’s something you’re not telling me” Wash says, folding his arms. “What are you hiding?”

I look at him, studying his face. I’m still not certain if I should trust these people. Caboose says they’re his friends, but I still have doubts. There’s so much at stake. Still, I have to take the risk. It’s the only way.

“I suppose I’ll have to tell him eventually, won’t I?” I present the question to the room.

A small, female voice chirps from the table. “Yes, you will. He can’t help unless he has all the facts.”

“As long as you’re comfortable showing him, then I guess it’s alright with me” I say.

A second, more sober voice responds. “I have no objections.” This is followed by some static.

“Well, I’ll take that as a ‘yes’” the cheery voice says again.

Before Wash has a chance to ask who I’m talking to, a small holographic figure appears on the table.

“Wash” I say, gesturing to the table. “I’d like for you to meet Rho.”

“Hello, Agent Washington” she says. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”


	8. Say Hello, Rho

Wash stares at the AI for a while before speaking. “Is this what the Director sold you?”

“Yes, along with a few suits of armor and the equipment needed for implantation.”

“Why would he give you an AI? A few soldiers, no matter what enhancements they have, wouldn’t be worth that to him” Wash says skeptically.

“I don’t know all the details” I start “but I know Dr. Han was working on something for him. Some secret side project she would never talk about. It was codenamed Allison.”

“Shit” Wash mutters, sitting down to study the AI. “That would explain it. He was trying to create her again. Did it work?”

“As far as I know, all the experiments were a failure” I say slowly. “What do you know about it? Who was he trying to create?”

“A woman. Someone he loved very much. He tried to bring her back over and over again, but never succeeded” Wash explains. “I guess he tried to get Dr. Han to help, too.”

Wash sits quietly for a long time, studying the AI. “I heard two voices earlier” he finally says. “Is there a second AI?”

The pink and blue armored figure changes to a deeper shade before speaking. “That would be me.” She then turns a grayish white as the air is filled with the hum of static, before settling back her original pastel colors.

“She’s broken” I explain. “The Director wouldn’t give up any of the good AIs, so Dr. Han convinced him to send her three broken ones instead. It took her a long time, but she eventually got them to work, although the personalities are somewhat split.”

“I’m instinct” the lighter, cheerier part of the AI chirps. “I am compassion” the voice changes again, becoming deeper and smoother as the darker form emerges to introduce herself. Lastly, the static-y form appears, but fades away without a word.

“We don’t know what the last one is” I say. “She was more damaged than the others when we first got her. Even though she’s mostly repaired now, she still hasn’t spoken or given us her name.”

“I think she’s shy” Light-Rho says.

“You two should talk” I tell Wash. “Rho can fill you in on everything we’ve done up to this point to find Dr. Han, and you two can discuss tactics.”

“What will you be doing?” Wash asks.

“I need to find the Sim-Troopers” I say, taking my helmet off the table and holding it under my arm as I turn toward the door. “It’s like you said, they need to choose this for themselves. I need to get their answers.”

“Be safe” Light-Rho says. “Don’t stay away too long. We’ll need to discuss plans with you” her darker part adds.

Wash waves slightly as I leave the room, most of his attention still on Rho. I notice that he seems nervous about her. I know from his file that his own AI malfunctioned and caused him some problems, but it didn’t mention any details. I hope that whatever happened won’t cause any problems later on. For now, I need to find the reds and blues.

* * *

 

Wash turns in his chair to face the small hologram. He didn’t like the thought of it being so close to him. Any AI was bad enough, but knowing this one was unstable made it worse. _Whatever happens, that thing is not going in my head,_ he thinks, pushing his helmet more securely onto his head. _I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime._

“Alright” Wash says finally, eyeing the AI skeptically. “Tell me everything I need to know about project Imbalance, starting with Silver.”

* * *

 

I walk through the halls of the base, trying to remember my way back to the labs. I’m not sure where all the Sim-Troopers have gone, but I figure the labs are a good place to start. Carbon might still be there visiting Mango and Peppermint with some of the others. _Why did mom have to design this place like a maze?_ I think as I stare at a meeting of three different corridors. I close my eyes, trying to remember which way to go. _This is so much easier when Rho’s with me. She never gets lost._

I finally pick the direction I think is most likely to take me in the right direction, and start walking. After a few minutes, I know by the smells that I’ve chosen correctly. There are the familiar traces of my brothers and sisters in the air, as well as the new smells from our guests.

Further down the hall, I see Nick walking with a clipboard full of papers under his arm. “You know, if you don’t want people to call you an old man, you might want to think about using some less outdated equipment” I say, jogging to catch up to him. I try to snatch the clipboard out of his hand, but he’s too quick.

“Old man or not, I can still beat you” he says, holding the papers out of my reach. Even with the height boost from my armor, he’s still a full head taller than me.

I match my pace to his as we walk side by side. “What do you think of our guests?”

“They seem experienced” he says after a moment. “If what we’ve heard about them is true, then they will certainly be helpful to us.”

“But what do you think of them, beyond ability?” I press.

“They seem trustworthy” Nick says. “I haven’t spoken to them much, but my gut tells me they won’t hurt us. Unlike the last guy.”

I shudder slightly, remembering the blood in the back of the pelican after Neon’s final mission. “Nothing could be as bad as that...”

“Actually, things could be considerably worse. But, I do not believe we’ll have any trouble from these new arrivals.” He pauses for a moment before asking “am I mistaken, or was that Carbon with them?”

I nod and tap the papers in his hand. “You can remove him from the missing list. We found him.”

“That’s good” Nick says, smiling as he pulls a pen from his pocket to write it down. “It’s always nice to put something positive in the records.”

My face drops as I remember the other change we need to make to the list. “Also, add Manny to the list of the deceased.”

Nick stops and looks at me. “Manganese is dead?” I nod. “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you later” I say, continuing down the hall. “I need to find the Sim-Troopers.” I turn my face away from him, afraid he’ll see my barely concealed tears.

“Si” Nick reaches out and grabs my wrist, stopping me. “If you need to talk about something, I’m always here. You don’t need to do all of this alone.”

“Thanks Nick” I say, pulling my arm away without looking him in the eye. “But I’m fine.”

I hurry on down the hall, barely hearing him whisper “just as stubborn as mom.”


	9. A Bit of Bribery

“What do you want to know about Silver?” Rho asks.

“Anything important” Wash answers. “To start, what happened to her. Why does she hate this doctor so much?”

“Dr. Han betrayed her. She nearly got Silver and all the other experiments killed, and she forced them to slaughter innocent people” Compassion-Rho says.

Wash shakes his head. “That doesn’t make sense. If Dr. Han tricked them into attacking those people, they should have realized what had happened soon enough to not cause any real damage. You make it sound like they murdered hundreds!”

“Collectively, they killed over a thousand innocent people” Rho says sadly.

Wash sits quietly for a moment, shocked. Even at the height of his blindness while working for the Director, he had never killed that many. He couldn’t even picture it in his head. “How?” he finally asks. “How did they not realize what was happening?”

Rho makes a small hologram appear in her hand. “Do you know what this is?”

Wash studies the object for a moment. “It looks like one of the chips the Director used to put AIs in people’s heads” he says eventually.

“That’s how it started” Rho says, the image in her hand dissolving. “Dr. Han received twelve of these chips. At first, she planned to use them to allow some of her soldiers to interface with me, although they would have had to take turns.”

“I take it that’s not what happened” Wash guesses.

“No” Rho says sadly. “She ended up using them for a very different purpose.”

I stop around the corner and listen to Nick’s footsteps as he leaves. _Keep it together_ , I think, taking a deep breath. _You don’t need a breakdown right now._ Once I’ve gotten control of myself again, I continue searching for the Sim-Troopers. I know most of them went to the labs with Carbon, so I get my bearings and start heading there.

I know I’m getting close when I hear the voices.

“I told you not to pet them” Simmons says, his voice carrying out into the hall.

“That guy who was in here before said not to even open the cage. Why didn’t you listen?” Grif asks.

I step through the open door and see Caboose holding his left hand with his right. Three long quills are stuck in his palm. “They look so friendly. I just wanted to hug Mango for a second. I didn’t think he’d be mean” Caboose complains.

“You could have at least left your gloves on” Simmons says. “That would have kept them from stabbing you.”

“If I had left my gloves on, I wouldn’t have been able to feel how soft they are.” Caboose says this as though it’s obvious.

Grif’s voice rises in pitch with exasperation. “They’re not soft. That’s the whole point!”

“You tried to pet them again” I say matter-of-factly. The three soldiers, noticing me standing there for the first time, turn to face me. “Let me see it” I command, walking toward Caboose and holding out my hand. He places his hand in mine and I begin to examine the wounds. “It’s not too bad” I say after a few moments.

I let go of his hand and stick my head out the door, waving down the first person I see. “Rhen, could you please take Carbon to go see Rhodi? He needs his hand patched up.” The boy nods and waves for Caboose to follow him.

“I thought Tucker was supposed to be watching him” I say as I watch the pair leave, Rhen trying to stop Caboose from pulling out the quills all the while.

“He was” Grif explains. “But Caboose wouldn’t stop pushing him out of the way to reach the cats, and eventually he got frustrated and left.”

“Does Tucker normally do that?” I question.

“Do what?” Simmons asks.

“Give up and abandon his team.”

“Not really” Simmons says.

“Normally if he gets fed up with something, he just goes out, shoots everyone, and solves the problem” Grif says.

“It’s actually kind of badass” Simmons remarks.

“No, it’s freaking annoying” Grif returns. “Every time we ever got close to beating those assholes, he always stopped us. I have the bullet wounds to prove it” he finishes, grumbling the last line.

“I had gotten the feeling you guys were tougher than you looked” I whisper to myself.

“Why’s that?” Simmons asks, picking up the quiet words with his cybernetic ear.

“According to everything I know about you, everything in your files and mission reports, there’s no way you should be alive today” I start to explain. “On paper, none of you have what it takes to survive the things you’ve gone through. Everything from the reasons you were expelled from the regular army and picked up by project Freelancer to your personality types suggests that you would have died long before the first time you met Agent Texas. And yet, somehow, you’re all still here. Why?”

“Hell if I know” Grif says. “I guess we’re just lucky.”

I laugh slightly at this. “I could use some of that luck on my side” I remark. “Which brings me to why I’m here. I need to talk to you.”

“What about?” Simmons asks.

“I went looking for you guys because I need your help. Things got a little hectic, what with the shooting and all, so I never really got your answer” I say, looking at the two soldiers expectantly. “Will you help us, or not?”

I expect their answer to be quick, either a yes or no, with a small explanation if they decline. However, that’s not what happens.

There’s a long pause, during which Simmons and Grif share a look. “I’m not sure” Simmons says slowly.

“Yeah, that’s something we’ll have to think about” Grif adds.

“What’s the problem?” I ask, trying to hide the weariness from my voice. I had hoped to avoid some sort of debate with them.

“The problem?” Grif asks. “The problem is that we barely made it out alive the last time we did something like this. The problem is that we’ve been away from home for so long, I’m not even sure where home is anymore. The problem is that it’s been more than a year since I’ve seen my sister, and the last I heard she was dead!” Grif’s voice gets louder as he speaks so by the end he’s shouting. He looks like he’s going to continue, but just shakes his head and looks away.

Simmons picks up where his friend left off. “We’ve been involved in a lot of fights that weren’t even ours in the first place. We’ve been lied to and manipulated, and even though we’ve survived, it hasn’t been without some loss. I don’t think we’re ready for something like that again.”

Grif seems to have calmed down while Simmons was talking, and he decides to speak up again. “I guess the real question is; what’s this have to do with us? What do we get out of it that’s better than finally being done fighting?”

I think for a minute, reviewing my options, before answering. “How about a home?” I offer. I walk to one of the computers in the lab and pull up some pictures of a beautiful, grassy canyon with two bases.

Simmons looks over my shoulder and sees the images. “Valhalla?”

I nod. “When project Freelancer shut down, the UNSC seized all of its property and began selling it off. We bought this piece of land hoping it would be a good place to start over, but I’m just as willing to use it as a bargaining chip if I have to.” The two soldiers stare at the familiar landscape with a look that I can only assume is homesickness. “The UNSC has been selling property all over the planet, and new settlements are being founded every day. It’s turning into a very nice place to start a new life.” I stop talking as I realize that neither man is listening to me.

“Can you believe it?” Simmons says quietly, eyes still fixed on the pictures. “We could finally go home.”

“Home” Grif says, as though he barely recognizes the word. He turns away from the screen and looks at me, his eyes daring me to tell him it’s a lie. I simply smile and nod my head. If they can help me save my family, it’s the least I can do to give them back their old home.

“As for your sister” I say, further catching Grif’s attention. “We’ll help you find her once this is all over.”

“Really?” Grif asks.

“Really” I say. “I know what it’s like to not know what’s happened to your family. If you help me take care of my brothers and sisters, I’ll help you find yours.”

Simmons and Grif look at each other for a second before turning back to me. “Deal” they say simultaneously.


	10. Happy to Help

“Dr. Han modified the interface” Rho starts to explain. “Rather than being designed to connect to a sentient AI like myself, she programmed them to be controlled by a simpler program.” Streams of code begin cascading next to Rho, representing one of the programs. “These programs were nearly AIs themselves, but weren’t copied from a base consciousness.”

“What does that mean?” Wash asks.

“It means that they had no free will. They obeyed any order Dr. Han gave them without thought or question.”

Wash begins to put the pieces together and realizes where this is going. “And she put them in these people’s heads” he says.

“Exactly” Rho nods. “I’m sure you’re familiar with how dangerous an AI can be when it doesn’t listen to its host. You know how they can take control.”

“Yeah” Wash says, rubbing his neck as he recalls the flood of memories he received when he was implanted with Epsilon. “I know what that’s like.”

* * *

 

I hear a high pitched droning punctuated by giggles and know I must be getting close to Platinum’s room. As I near the door, the voices get clearer so I can make out the words.

“Then I dotted all the ‘i’s with hearts” one voice says. At first I think this is Tinu, but it doesn’t sound right. It takes me a moment to recognize this as the voice of one of the Sim-Troopers, the one they call Donut.

I peek around the frame of the open door and see the two of them sitting on the edge of Tinu’s bed, with pictures of armor designs and clothes scattered throughout the room. Tinu has a tissue in her hand and is wiping a tear away from her eye. “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard” she says, sniffling.

I step to where they can see me and lean against the doorframe. “What are you two up to?” I ask.

Tinu smiles and looks at me. “Donut was just telling me a story about his high school prom. It was so sweet!”

“And Tinu was showing me some armor designs” Donut adds. “My favorite is the one with the lace utility belt that doubles as a shawl.”

I smile as I glance between the two of them, holding back a laugh. _It’s like they’re cut from the same mold_ , I think. “I’m glad you two are getting along.”

“Oh, yeah!” Donut nods enthusiastically. “Your sister is an artist.”

Tinu blushes a little. “Oh, that’s not true” she says modestly.

“Yes it is” Donut says encouragingly, reaching over and placing his hand over hers. There’s silence for a few seconds before he looks back at me. “You know, it’s been so long since I’ve been able to talk with someone about stuff like this, I’d forgotten how much fun it is.”

“You couldn’t have this kind of conversation with your team?” Tinu asks, surprised.

“Oh, no” Donut says. “I try, but they don’t want to hear it. Those guys think this stuff is boring.”

“Idiots” Tinu says, rolling her eyes. She and Donut then burst out laughing.

I smile as I watch Tinu. This is the first time she’s seemed genuinely happy in months. I know she took it harder than most when mom betrayed us. For weeks she wouldn’t talk to anyone except her partner, Nick. He told me that after the mission they were sent on, he’d had to drag her away from the battle so they could escape. She’d been in some sort of shock, holding the body of a little girl and crying, completely unaware of her surroundings. She still wakes up crying most nights.

Platinum had always been a shining star in the family, ready to do or say anything to make someone else feel better, but she hasn’t been the same until the attacks. Watching her smiling and laughing like this, she almost looks like her old self. Her eyes aren’t hiding the sadness or regret they usually hold. It’s at this moment that I know I need to keep Donut here, with us. Even if he can’t help the mission in any way, or he proves as useless as his records say he is, I at least need him to keep Tinu happy. I can’t bear to see her the way she’s been.

Tinu’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts. “Silver” she draws out the word in a sing-song voice. “Hello? Anybody home?” She’s moved from the bed and is standing in front of me, waving a hand in front of my face.

I smack her hand away lightly, laughing. “Knock it off.”

“You zoned out” she says, a trace of concern in her otherwise jovial voice. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah” I say, dismissing the question with a wave of my hand. “I was just thinking.”

“What were you thinking about?”

I ignore the question, stepping around her so I can see the pink armored Sim-Trooper. “I need to talk to Donut.”

Tinu glances from me to him for a second. “Well, I need to get to the box anyway. It’s time for the kids’ training.” She gives Donut a quick side-hug before jogging out the door. “See ya later!” she calls over her shoulder as she leaves.

Donut smiles as he watches her go. “She’s really nice” he says happily. He then looks back at me. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“I just want to make sure you’re with us” I say. “That you’ll stay and help.”

“Oh” Donut says, surprised. “I figured Sarge would have told you. He came by earlier and said we were going to stay here until you didn’t need us anymore.”

I nod. “He did, but I wanted to hear it from you. You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. I’d rather have people who are loyal than people who follow orders.”

Donut barely hesitates before saying “sure, I’ll help.”

“That’s it?” I ask. I had expected that I would need to convince him, like I had with his teammates.

“Of course” Donut says. “You people need help, and we can help you. That’s the whole reason I signed up for the army in the first place. I want to help people. Even though we’re not in the army anymore, that’s still what I want to do.” He looks around the room for a second. “And this seems like a good place to start.”

There’s a pause for a few seconds as I let his words sink in. Then I laugh slightly and shake my head. “I cannot get a read on you people.”

“What do you mean?” Donut asks.

“I’ve read your files, studied your actions, and I thought I had some idea of who you people are. And yet, each time I’ve spoken to you guys, you’ve surprised me. What is it with you people? Why are you so complicated?”

I had meant it as a rhetorical question, but Donut chooses to answer anyway. “We’re not that complicated” he says, staring at me. “You just don’t know us yet. You’ve grown up with everyone else here, so you don’t have to think about what they’ll say or how they’ll react, you just know. But we’re new to you, so we’re not as predictable. Give it some time. You’ll realize that we’re actually pretty simple people.”

I nod, thinking about it. He’s right about at least one thing. This is the first time I’ve had to work with people who aren’t my family. There’s certain things I won’t be able to take for granted with them. I’ll just have to be careful.

“How’d you get so insightful?” I finally ask, feigning suspicion as I eye the pink soldier.

“Well, I grew up on a farm” Donut says. “There was a lot of time to think there. I guess I got pretty good at it.”


	11. Hola

“So, Dr. Han used these to control her people?” Wash guesses.

“Some of them” Rho says. “She was only given twelve interfaces, and she kept one unmodified as a control. The other eleven were given to her most successful experiments.”

“Was Silver one of the ones that were implanted?” Wash asks.

Rho’s holographic head bobs up and down slowly. “She was told, along with the others, that these chips would allow them to work better and react faster in combat situations. When they were sent to attack the covenant colonies, they thought these near-AIs would give them the advantage they’d need to defeat their enemy’s greater numbers. When they began to realize where they really were, and that they’d been lied to, Dr. Han took over. She activated the programs that controlled the chips, and forced her experiments to fight.”

“How do these programs work?” Wash asks after a pause. “Does it take full control of the host?”

“No. The programs are not advanced enough to fully control a sentient mind. Instead, they control the section of the brain that dictates belief and perception. When Silver began to realize that she wasn’t fighting soldiers, but civilians, the chip took over and told her that this observation was wrong. It made her believe that the people she was fighting were enemy soldiers who needed to die.”

Wash shook his head. This was hitting a little too close to home for him. He could still feel that moment when Epsilon’s fears began to cloud his own perception of reality, making him see danger around every corner and everyone as a threat. To have that done on purpose, then to realize the truth only after it was too late; he couldn’t imagine it.

“Well, they obviously aren’t being controlled anymore” he says eventually. “How did they break free?”

* * *

 

I look around the hangar. At least I know where everything is from here, so I should be able to find people easily enough. If I knew where they had all gone to. The only ones I still need to talk to are the medic, DuFresne, and Tucker. I have no idea where Tucker is, but I remember that the medic went with Rhodi to check our stock of medical supplies. I decide to look for him there first, but before I do there’s something I need from the pelican.

I stare at the beat up ship as I approach it. There’s scorching along its side from plasma blasts, and dents along one wing from bullets. The image is made even more decrepit by the dirt covering the landing gear, and a thin layer of space dust covering the windows. _Good old bird_ , I think, patting the side as I near the back hatch. I know it’s an older model, although my knowledge of the vehicle is fairly limited beyond that. Still, she’s served us well, and has managed to bring us all home more than enough times to earn my respect.

Once I reach the back, I hit the button and stand to the side as the door slowly flips down. I step inside and search the seats in the dark, hoping to find the one thing I’m looking for. Suddenly, I spot it. I pick the object up and carry my prize out into the light. I hold the helmet up to inspect it, and am surprised to see that it’s brown, not blue. _I could have sworn Agent Washington’s armor was blue_ , I think as I stare at the helmet. I notice the wires sticking out of the bottom at the same moment it speaks.

“ _Hola_ ” the helmet says.

I make some sort of squeaking noise and drop it. “ _Oww_ ” the helmet says from the floor.

“What are you?” I ask, hand inching toward my gun. “Why are you a talking head?”

“ _I’m a robot”_ the helmet says, speaking Spanish. “ _My body was destroyed a long time ago. Now I am just a head.”_

I look at the head skeptically. “How did you get on my ship?”

_“You can understand me?”_ the head asks, ignoring my question.

I tap the side of my helmet with my finger. “I have a translator. Now answer my question.”

The robot pauses for a moment before speaking. _“The pink idiot brought me with him when he went to help his team. Then he forgot about me and left me in the ship. It was nice, not listening to him talk for a few hours.”_

I pick him up cautiously. “Well, sorry I dropped you” I say, still unsure of him. He could be a spy for mom, although a random robot head doesn’t really seem like her style. “And that you got left in the pelican all day.”

“ _That’s fine”_ the head says apathetically. _“I am used to being forgotten places.”_

I scan the inside of the ship and see Washington’s helmet on the floor in a corner. I pick it up and tuck it under my arm while still staring at the head in my hand. “If Donut brought you, that means you’re from red team, right?”

_“Si.”_

“I don’t remember them having a robot” I say, stepping out of the pelican. “What’s your name?”

_“I am Lopez the Heavy”_ he says, a touch of pride in his voice.

“You’re not all that heavy” I remark as I step out of the pelican.

_“Things were different back when I had a body.”_

“Well, maybe we can do something about tha-“

_“You’re bleeding”_ Lopez interrupts me.

I look down and see red drops on the floor, and a smear of red on Wash’s helmet. I sigh, switching the helmet to my other arm. I normally heal faster than this. I should be fine by now, and yet I’m still bleeding.

I look up and see Iodine on the other side of the room, trying to fix the hornet. I wave him over and hand him Washington’s helmet and Lopez’s head. “Give Agent Washington his helmet, then find Yttri. If you can dig her out from under whatever latest project she’s working on, ask her to check if we have the parts to make this guy a new body.” I tap the top of Lopez’s head as I finish giving the instructions.

Iodine nods, then looks at my shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asks concernedly.

“I’m fine” I say dismissively. “I just need to go see Rhodi.”

Iodine nods, his blond hair bobbing comically, before sprinting off to find Wash.

I watch him leave, then sigh again as I glance down at my shoulder. It really shouldn’t still be bleeding. Oh well. I had been planning to go to the infirmary to look for DuFresne anyway. At least it won’t be out of my way.


	12. The Nature of Violence

Rho creates another hologram floating beside her. This one forms the image of an alien gun. “This is the most common weapon used by the Covenant during the war. Humans refer to it as the plasma pistol. Every Covenant soldier had at least one of these, in addition to their primary weapon. They’re sturdy and reliable, although they don’t cause much damage.”

Rho allows the hologram to disappear as she continues. “They were almost discontinued because of a design flaw. If the trigger is held down too long, it will cause the weapon to overcharge, resulting in an electromagnetic burst that can disable vehicles. It’s actually this property that made them so useful in the war. When the Covenant realized that this worked on our own vehicles as well as theirs, they began training their soldiers to use the gun for this specific purpose. The UNSC forces even began collecting them to use again the Covenant. Master Chief himself has been recorded to use this tactic numerous times.

“When the war was over, many former soldiers kept their weapons as mementos, either to honor friends who’d died, or to celebrate that they themselves had survived. When Silver and the others were sent to attack, these former soldiers fought back. Some of them had these plasma pistols. And some of them panicked slightly, and held the trigger for too long, and accidentally sent an electromagnetic pulse through their attackers. At least, that’s what happened to Silver. When she was hit, her chip broke and she was knocked out. When she woke up a few minutes later, she realized where she was and what was happening. She stopped fighting and tried to stop her partner, but he was still under Dr. Han’s control. In the end, she was forced to leave him behind so she could save the rest of her team.”

“Team?” Wash asks.

Rho nods. “All of Dr. Han’s experiments were raised in groups of four. Each group contained two sets of partners, forming one team. Silver was originally on a team with Manganese and Carbon, but when they left she was relocated to another team. She, Platinum, Nickel, and Gold were all trained together from then on.” She stares into space for a moment, remembering. “They were the oldest and best we had, and they worked together like they shared one mind.” Rho’s eyes refocus on Wash as she continues. “It nearly killed Silver, leaving her brother behind, but she had no choice.

“Only Silver, Boron, and Nick were lucky enough to have their chips deactivated during the attacks. The rest, Siler tracked down and freed herself. She helped Nick free Tinu, then returned to the base to find the others. Everyone else who had been chipped was still in the open, but the rest of the experiments who survived that day returned home. No one knew what to do, but Silver knew that if they stayed too long someone would come looking for them, so she led them to one of Dr. Han’s secret bases. Then, once she was sure her family was safe, she went to search for the others. Many were dead by the time she found them, but she was able to save some, like Neon and Boron, as well as stealing me from Gold.”

“She stole you?” Wash asks.

Rho nods. “Dr. Han gave me to Gold after he returned to her. I was supposed to help him track down and either kill or capture the other experiments. When Silver found me and Gold, she tried to deactivate his chip, but couldn’t subdue him long enough to complete the process. She was, however, able to steal his helmet, which is where I was housed. Dr. Han had feared that I would try to override her control on him, so she didn’t give me direct access to his mind.”

“Would you?” Wash asks. “Would you have freed him?”

“Of course” Rho says, feeling slightly insulted. “I understand why Dr. Han is doing this, and I understand what she feels,” Rho’s image darkens slightly as she speaks, “but she’s wrong. Revenge for her family won’t solve anything. It will only lead to more pain. I’ve been in the minds of many of the experiments here, during training. I know them. I consider them friends and I don’t want them to die. Had I been given the chance, I would have freed Gold and brought him here myself. Unfortunately, I was unable to.”

* * *

 

I start to feel light headed as the door to the infirmary opens. I see Rhodi talking to the medic, but can’t seem to concentrate on what they’re saying. Rhodi sees me standing in the doorway and smiles, before noticing the blood dripping from my shoulder.

“Si!” he says, rushing over to me. “Are you okay? What happened?”

I sit on the side of one of the beds and pull my helmet off. “I’m fine. I got shot during the mission, but it’s nothing. I just need a patch job.”

Rhodi doesn’t look like he believes me, but he doesn’t question my words. He grabs some supplies from a cabinet on the wall and begins pulling off the bandage already on my shoulder. “This wasn’t disinfected properly” he says, studying the wound. “And the bullet is still in there. Who did this?”

I glance at the purple clad medic. His expression is one of both nervousness and guilt. I remember that he’s not really a medic. Just like the other simulation personnel Project Freelancer had used, he was only told he was part of an army. All of his training was fake. I know Rhodi will freak out if I tell him the person who fixed me up was untrained, so I decide to take pity on the medic. “We were in a rush. There was no time to remove the bullet, or worry about sterile equipment.”

Rhodi groans as he pours some alcohol on a cloth. “Si, you know how dangerous that is. You need to be more careful, especially now. You’re not as tough as-“

“I know” I snap. “I’m being as careful as I can be.”

“I’m just saying you need to slow down a little” Rhodi says calmly, cleaning off a pair of tweezers. “You need to take it easy.”

I look at his face while he gets the supplies ready. It’s hard to believe he’s only fourteen, looking at his eyes. He’s already seen so much pain; been elbow deep in the blood of his own brothers and sisters while he’s tried to save them. I know he’s only trying to keep me safe. He doesn’t want to see me hurt.

“I’ll try” I say eventually. It’s not what he wants to hear, but it’s all I can give him. I can’t stop fighting.

“Lay down” Rhodi says. I do and he starts removing the armor around my shoulder. After he’s cleaned up the area around the wound, he places a hand on my arm and says “this’ll hurt.” I nod, bracing for the pain. Then Rhodi picks up the tweezers and pulls out the bullet.

My breath catches in my throat for a second as the bullet is removed. I swear, being shot hurts less than all the clean up. Despite my internal whining, it’s over before I realize and Rhodi’s already re-bandaging the wound.

“Thanks” I say, sitting up once he’s done.

“Don’t wait so long next time” he says, eyes stern. “The last thing you need right now is an infection.”

“I get it” I say, trying to not sound annoyed. “It won’t happen again.”

“Yes it will” Rhodi mutters as he walks away. I try not to laugh at this. He knows me well enough to not be fooled by that.

I stand up off the bed, and am happy to see that I’m no longer dizzy. I look up and see the purple medic watching me nervously. “Need something?” I ask as I pick up my helmet.

He shuffles forward nervously. “I, um, thought you might want something for the pain” he says, holding out his hand to offer me some pills. “I know your supplies are low, but I had some in my kit and I thought you might need it.”

I smile and shake my head. “Thanks, but I’m alright. The pain’s not really that bad. I heal faster than most, so I should be better by tomorrow anyway.”

“Oh, okay” he says. He looks like he wants to protest, but is too nervous to contradict me.

“It’s DuFresne, right?” I ask, holding out my hand.

“Yes, although most people call me Doc” the medic answers while shaking my hand. “I don’t know why, though. I’m not really a doctor, I’m a medic.” He adds, as an afterthought “I guess I’m not even that anymore, not since Project Freelancer shut down.”

“Still, you’ve got training and experience” I say. “That’s one better than we’ve got here.”

“Rhodium seems capable” Doc says. “He certainly knows a lot about medicine.”

I nod. “But he’s not used to seeing people hurt. He’s not used to all the blood.” I look at the younger boy across the room, trying to make what little supplies we have multiply by reorganizing the shelves once again. “He says he’s okay with it, but I worry about him.”

“I understand” Doc says. “That’s one of the hardest parts of learning medicine; getting past all the blood and pain. But I think he can do it. He wants to, at least. That helps.”

“He shouldn’t have to” I whisper too quietly for Doc to hear.

“He’s been telling me about what’s happened here, what you guys have been through” Doc continues. “I know it’s not the same as what was done to you, but I kind of know what that’s like, to have someone control you.”

I give him a questioning look and he begins to explain. “Before we discovered that we were part of a practice army, before any of us even knew what Project Freelancer was, one of their AIs had some, um, issues.”

“What kind of issues?” I ask.

“Well, I don’t want to say he was a bad person. I mean, given what we know about how he was created, it’s perfectly understandable what O’Malley did” Doc starts, trying to explain what had happened without saying anything negative about the AI in question. “Agent Texas was sent on a training mission to the blue base in Blood Gulch. While she was there, the AI she was implanted with tried to escape. He could jump between suits of armor, and he eventually ended up in mine. He” Doc falters for a moment. “He made me do a lot of stuff; tried to make me kill my friends. I know it’s wrong to say that I hate something, and I didn’t really hate him, I guess, but I was glad once he was gone.”

“I don’t think I could be that forgiving” I say slowly. “If someone tried to hurt the people I care about, or forced me to hurt them, I’d more than hate that person. I’d probably kill him.”

“Well, I’ve always believed that violence is never the best option” Doc says.

I consider this for a moment. “I think that, sometimes, you can’t help the fact that there’s going to be violence. All you can do is try to control who gets hurt, and make sure it’s no one you love. In the end, someone always dies. That’s just the way life is. You just try to make sure it’s a death you can live with.”


	13. Tucker's Story

“It seems like the real problem here is Gold” Agent Washington says. Rho had told him about the few times they had gotten close to capturing Dr. Han. Every time they found her, Gold had somehow prevented them from reaching her before she escaped. “If he’s the only one protecting her, then all you need to do is get rid of him.”

“We can’t kill him” Rho says sternly. “I won’t allow it, and Silver won’t allow it. He’s not our enemy, he’s her prisoner.”

“Of course” Wash says. “That’s not what I meant. I think we need to capture him.”

“We’ve tried” Rho says tiredly. “We tried using a plasma pistol, but it didn’t work. I think Dr. Han modified his chip with some sort of electromagnetic shielding. And we’ve tried catching him and bringing him back to base, but we can’t. He’s willing to kill everyone here, but we’re not willing to kill him. It gives him a distinct advantage.”

“But if it’s just him, you should be able to easily outnumber him” Wash reasons.

Rho shakes her head. “Silver won’t let any of the other experiments face him.”

“Why not?” Wash asks in exasperation. “She could end this so easily.”

“Gold was Silver’s partner after Manganese left. He was the best agent here. Silver was the only one who could ever match him in battle, but their fights only ever ended in stalemates. She’s not willing to risk letting anyone else fight him.”

Wash shakes his head in confusion. “I can understand her wanting to protect her siblings. I get that. But this seems a little overprotective. Why is she so afraid of them getting hurt?”

Rho looks down at her feet. She’s not sure if she should tell him. Finally, she looks up and begins to explain. “There was an, incident, before we found you. Someone-“ Rho’s cut off by someone entering the room.

A black haired boy who looks to be in his early twenties is standing in the doorway. He stares at the AI on the table for a moment, expression unreadable, before turning his attention to the seated figure. “Agent Washington?” the boy asks.

Wash meets the boy’s eyes with his own. Something about him seems off somehow. His stance and demeanor make him appear suspicious, as well as the fact that Rho has grown nervous since seeing him. “Yes” Wash says slowly.

“I need you to come with me” the boy says, turning to leave.

Wash stands, but doesn’t move toward the door. “What’s this about?” he asks.

“I don’t know” the boy says. “I was just told to get you.” He glares at the AI for a moment, before his face turns neutral again.

The glare doesn’t escape Wash’s notice, and he wonders what it means. What does this boy have against the AI? Could it simply be distrust, after having a similar program control him at one time? Wash isn’t sure, but he knows he doesn’t trust the boy. Still, he has his gun with him, and he doesn’t think anyone here will attack him. It didn’t make sense, not right after they’d rescued him and his team from that planet.

Wash turns to Rho. “I guess we’ll finish this later” he says, before facing the door and following the boy.

The door closes behind Washington and the boy after they leave the room. Rho’s image flashes for a moment as she activates her radio. “Nick, can you hear me?” she asks, her tone urgent as her colors shift sporadically.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Rho absorbs the words rather than hearing them, the sound data from the radio flowing directly into her memory. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Boron” she says. “He asked Agent Washington to follow him somewhere, but he wouldn’t say where they were going or for what reason. It seemed” she pauses for a second, searching for the right word. “Suspicious” she finally ends.

Nick sighs heavily, and Rho gets a mental image of him running one hand through his graying hair. “Okay, I’ll see what he’s up to. Thanks for the warning.”

* * *

 

I half walk half jog through the halls. Where the hell is Tucker? I’ve searched through the entire facility in the past ten minutes, and have seen no sign of him. Everyone I ask says they haven’t seen him either. Since he left Carbon with Grif and Simmons earlier, it’s like he’s disappeared.

I eventually find myself outside of the box, our training room. I take a moment to look at the doors, and in my mind I picture the stone columns rising from the floor and the holographic targets I know lie beyond. It’s not as advanced as our old one, which was entirely holographic, but it still serves its purpose. It has a similar layout to the ones aboard the Mother of Invention, since the Director himself helped design it. There are a few differences, though, like the anti-gravity settings and sensory controls, which mom added. I look through a window into the room and see Tinu training Lico, Rubi, and Franc. The kids are bouncing off the walls, literally, as they practice how to move in a zero-gravity environment.

I look up and see a pair of legs hanging over the side of the catwalk. The metal walkway is meant to give easy access to the ceiling’s lights in case they need repair, but I also tend to use it as an observation deck for the training room. I recognize the bluish green/teal/whatever color of the armored legs and smile. I guess I’m not the only one who knows how to get a good view.

I climb up the ladder to the catwalk, and my suspicions are confirmed when I see the armored figure sitting there. Tucker barely glances at me when I walk up to him. He simply moves his helmet to make room for me to sit next to him.

I sit and hang my legs over the side of the walkway, my chin resting on the metal railing, and watch the kids. What was probably once an organized training exercise seems to have devolved into a game, as is often the case when Tinu is supervising. I don’t mind. They need to relax and have fun sometimes.

I glance at the Sim-Trooper out of the corner of my eye. He’s smiling. I wonder briefly whether he’s smiling at Tinu, or the kids’ game. I get my answer when Rubi apparently scores a point by touching the wall on the other side of the room, and Tucker claps.

“Looks like they’re having fun” I say, watching Franc perform some sort of impromptu victory dance.

“I think the point of the game is to see how many times they can crash into each other” Tucker remarks as Lico and Rubi launch at each other from across the room, only to bounce away laughing.

I laugh with them, then glance at Tucker again. He seems harmless enough, but I’m still concerned. “I need to talk to you about something” I start.

“You don’t even need to ask,” Tucker interrupts. “My son’s been working as an ambassador for years to keep peace between humanity and the Covenant. I don’t want to let all his work go to waste. Besides, I can’t just let the people here get killed” Tucker adds, looking at the kids again. “I’m here to help however you need me to.”

“So, you’re in?” I ask.

Tucker laughs slightly. “Yeah! Bow chicka bow wow!”

I give him a questioning look, but quickly shake it off. I probably don’t want to know.

Although I’m glad he’s agreed to help, there’s something even more important I had wanted to talk to him about. “Actually, that’s not what I came here to ask.”

“What’s up?” Tucker asks, finally turning his full attention to me.

I sit silently for a second, thinking. I need to ask this in a way that isn’t simply asking ‘are you dangerous?’ out of nowhere. “Well, you know I have all of your files from Project Freelancer” I start slowly. “These files include how you were expelled from the UNSC and hired by Project Freelancer.” When he doesn’t say anything, I add “it says why you were kicked out of the army.”

“I feel like you’re trying to say something, without actually saying anything” Tucker says.

I sigh. “Do you know why you were kicked out of the army?”

“Dude, until a year ago, I thought I was still in the army. I joined the army, and the next thing I knew, I was sent to some shitty outpost, in a canyon, in a desert. So no, I have no idea why.”

I decide to stop beating around the bush and just get it over with. “Your file says sexual harassment.”

“Oh” Tucker says, looking away for a second. “Well, that sounds bad.”

“Yeah” I laugh humorlessly. “It sounds bad. And since you’re going to be working with us, I need an explanation. I’m giving you one chance to explain what happened before I drop you back to where I found you.”

Tucker runs a hand through his hair thoughtfully. “Okay, I think I know what you’re talking about, and it’s seriously not as bad as it sounds” he says eventually.

“So, start talking” I say. I won’t let this go until I have a decent answer.

“Back when I was in basic training, after I’d joined the army, I had this one Drill Sergeant. She worked us to the bone. Every day, she had us training like we were already fighting the war. She was a total bitch, but, like, a hot one. So, every day when training was over, I would try to flirt with her. I didn’t really mean much by it; I just wanted to make her uncomfortable. You know, get back at her a little bit for beating us up so much on the training courses. One day, she said that if I didn’t stop, she’d get me court-martialed.” Tucker stops for a second, thinking. “You know, it’s funny. Apparently she’s the reason I’ve been through all the shit I’ve been through with Project Freelancer, and I can’t even remember her name.

“Still, if it weren’t for being grabbed by the project, I wouldn’t have met any of the friends I have now. I wouldn’t even have Junior. So, I guess it’s alright, in the end.”

I study his face, looking for any signs of a lie. His story seems reasonable, and I think he’s telling the truth, but I’m not sure. Nick has always been a better judge of that kind of thing than I am. “Okay” I say finally, my eyes not leaving his. “I have no way to prove that what you’ve said is true, so I’m choosing to believe you for now. But I will be keeping an eye on you. If you do anything that endangers my family in any way, I will kill you myself.”

He seems shocked for a second, then smiles and nods. “Yeah, I can understand that. If anyone tried to hurt Junior, I guess I’d kill them too.”

I nod as well. I’m not sure whether I should be concerned or not with how well he took the threat. Maybe he’s just used to being threatened by now, with all the fighting he’s done. I decide to just let it go, choosing to ask him something else I’m curious about. “Junior’s your kid, right?”

“Yeah, my son” Tucker says proudly.

“He’s a sangheli?” I ask. Tucker nods. “How does that work? Is he adopted, or…”

“No, he’s my actual son, blood related and everything” Tucker answers.

I shake my head. According to mom’s research, humans and sangheli are supposed to be non-compatible. It took her years to figure out how to get the DNA to fit so she could make Silicon. “That’s going to need further explanation” I say.

Tucker begins to explain. “You see, we met this alien dude back when we were fighting O’Malley. I never figured out his name, so I just called him Crunchbite. I couldn’t understand him because he only ever said ‘honk’ and…”

I look down into the box while listening to the story. For some reason, Tinu and the kids have stopped playing. There’s a small group gathered at one end of the room. I can’t tell who all the people are, but I recognize Wash’s blue and yellow armor in the middle of the group. It looks like someone’s talking to him. I focus on the person speaking and suddenly recognize the black hair and nervous stance. “Oh, blargh” I mutter.

“Yeah, exactly!” Tucker says. “I mean, what kind of language only has two words?” He notices that I’m no longer paying attention and looks down to see what’s wrong. “What’s going on down there?”

Before I have a chance to answer, Nick peeks his head over the top of the ladder. “Si, Rho just called me. She said Boron’s up to something.”

“Yeah, I saw” I say, gesturing to the ever-growing crowd in the training room. “Come on, we’d better check this out.” Nick drops down the ladder. _What could Boron be up to now?_ I think as I start climbing down after him.


	14. Stirring Up Trouble

I climb down the ladder, dropping the last few feet to the ground. Nick sprints toward the training room door and I follow. When the door slides open, I see Tinu standing at the edge of the gathering, arms folded and a slight scowl on her face. I hear Boron talking, alternating between addressing the group and Wash, as I walk toward him.

“We don’t need you!” Boron says angrily, nearly in Wash’s face. He turns to face everyone else around him. “We don’t need these people’s help, and it’s too dangerous to let them stay here. We don’t know if we can trust them. You know what happened last time.”

I push my way through the group, most people stepping aside to let me by. When I reach Boron, he’s facing away from me, about to shout something else in Washington’s face. I grab his shoulder and turn him to face me. “Stand down, Boron” I say, trying to keep my tone even but failing to banish all the anger from my voice.

“No” Boron says, shaking my hand off his shoulder. “Not while we have a time bomb like this hanging around.” He gestures at Wash as he speaks. From over his shoulder, I see that the Sim-Troopers are now standing behind Washington.

“They won’t hurt us” I try to reason. “The last guy was crazy. These people are different.”

“Oh, come on!” Boron exclaims. “You’re not the only one who’s read their files, Silver. You and I both know that this Freelancer,” he points at Wash, “is far from safe. He had a mental breakdown and killed three people!”

“He had an AI experience total system breakdown _in his head_ ” I point out. “But he’s recovered since then.”

“You can’t go through something like that without it changing you. You have no way to know that he’s stable now” Boron says. “We’re not safe as long as he’s here.”

“We’re not safe!” I nearly shout. “Period. We have the two largest militaries in the galaxy hunting us down. We are wanted not only by the UNSC, but the whole goddamn Covenant as well. We’re not safe, and we won’t be safe until we can clear our names and get them off our backs. And these” I gesture at the Sim-Troopers “are the only people in the galaxy who are both willing and able to help with that.”

“Help us?” Boron laughs. “How can they help? What can they possibly do that we can’t do ourselves?” Without giving me a chance to answer, he turns around, standing face to face with Agent Washington. “What can you do that’s better than us? You couldn’t even save your own team!” Even though I can’t see his face, I can hear the mean smile creeping into Boron’s voice. “They said Freelancers were the best of the best. I think we should test if that’s true.”

I put a hand on his shoulder warningly. “Boron, don’t” I start.

“No, he’s right” Wash says, anger showing on his face. “You should get to see what we can do.”

I glance between the two of them. I know Boron crossed a line with his comment about Washington’s team. I could see his face change as he heard the words. Everyone is eager to see what the Freelancer is capable of, and he looks ready to start punching already. I doubt I can stop a fight from starting, but I can try to control it. “Fine” I say, pushing the two apart as I step between them. “If you want to give a demonstration, then I can set up a match for you” I direct this to Agent Washington. “But not with you,” I add, glaring at Boron.

“Afraid I’ll hurt your new friend?” Boron smirks as he backs up a few steps. I point to the door, not breaking eye contact. Boron turns reluctantly and leaves the room.

“Well?” I turn to face the gathered crowd. “Go figure out where you want to watch from.” They all scatter, chatting excitedly, a few climbing to perches high on the walls while the rest crowd around the windows.

I turn back to Wash. The Sim-Troopers have already left as well, not wanting to get caught up in whatever is about to happen. “You don’t have to do this” I finally say.

Wash’s eyes lock with mine. Most of the anger seems to have left him, replaced with weariness and a small amount of dread. “I know” he says, half sighing. “Let’s just get this over with.”

I nod. I spot Tinu hanging out near one of the doors and wave her over. “You up for a sparring match?” I ask.

“Sure” she says. She’s keeping her voice cheery, but I can tell she’s not happy about what just happened.

“Suit up” I say, gesturing to a door that leads to the armory. “Training pads, not full armor.” Tinu nods and jogs toward the door.

Wash notices my irritated expression and mistakes it for nervousness. “Don’t worry” he says, glancing in the direction Tinu left. “I’ll go easy on her.”

I smile. “It’s not her I’m worried about.” Wash gives me a questioning look. “Just… be careful” I say, patting him on the shoulder before leaving the room.

I set Nick at the room’s controls before climbing back up to the catwalk. One wall of the box flashes white before displaying the rules for the match. It’s a basic hand-to-hand fight, with a ten foot wide holographic circle restricting movement. I know immediately that Tinu will have the advantage in this small space. Her long arms and legs will make it easy for her to push Wash out if the ring. I think about signaling for Nick to change the setting, but decide against it. I want to see how Washington handles this.

Tinu enters the room and moves to stand in the circle. She’s wearing training armor that looks like a poor imitation of the Mjolnir armor Wash is wearing, consisting of little more than cloth padding topped in hard plastic, fastened to her chest, arms, and legs with white straps. It looks like it could protect against mild bruising but not much else. Wash glances up at me with a questioning look. I just smile and nod. Tinu will be fine.

Once they’re both in the ring, holographic bands rise from the floor to signal the edges. A timer is displayed on the wall, accompanied by a robotic female voice. “Three” the voice starts, and Tinu and Wash both take defensive stances. “Two.” They both begin to step to the left, circling around the edges of the ring. “One.” Tinu smiles at Wash and dips her head to the side in a slight bow. Wash mimics the bow. “Round begin.”

The moment those words play over the speakers, Tinu steps forward and makes a halfhearted punch toward Wash’s chest. He steps back to avoid the blow, quickly throwing in a punch of his own. Tinu ducks to the side, then answers with a kick forward. The kick sends Wash stepping back again. Tinu keeps this up for a few more minutes, until with one powerful kick forward she sends Wash stumbling out of the ring.

“Point to Platinum” the voice rings through the speakers.

I laugh for a second. Tinu has tricked a lot of people with that style of fighting before. She likes to pretend that she’s not very good or very strong, or that her mind’s not on the fight. Then, whenever she knows her opponent isn’t expecting it, she surprises them with all the skill she’s hidden. It’s how she won her first fight against me. Most good fighters won’t fall for it twice, however. Now we’ll get to see what Wash can really do.

Wash steps back into the ring and prepares for the next round. I can tell from his stance that he’s taking this fight more seriously. He lets Tinu attack first, blocking all her kicks and punches without giving up ground. Once he gets used to her pattern, he starts throwing in attacks of his own. Wash misses a few blocks while pressing the attack, but is rewarded with a few of his punches reaching their targets. Tinu doesn’t stop, though. Once she’s confident Wash is following her pattern of attack, she changes things.

Tinu switches to a more defensive style, attacking only when she sees an opening. These are few and far between. Wash is definitely keeping his guard up. When she does land a hit, though, Tinu doesn’t hold back. Every punch or kick Wash fails to block causes him to back up a few inches. It’s slow and it takes work, but after some time Tinu has worked him back to the edge of the ring. She tries to knock him out a second time by landing another kick to his chest. Wash grabs her foot in an attempt to stop her. He pushes her back, hoping to throw her off balance. Tinu yanks her foot out of his grip, and then roundhouse kicks him in the shoulder, forcing him to roll out of the ring.

“Point to Platinum” the announcement plays through the speakers once again. A two to zero score is displayed on the wall.

I know Wash won’t last much longer like this. Tinu’s longer legs and arms make it easy for her to push him around the small ring. Add to that her strength, and it’s nearly impossible for anyone to win against her in this kind of fight. I wave to Nick and signal for him to change the room’s setting. He hits a few buttons and immediately the holographic circles around Wash and Tinu disappear.

“Match reset” the voice says. “Full training room now open for combat practice.”

Stone columns begin to rise from the floor. Tinu back flips away from Wash and ducks behind one of the columns, disappearing from view. Wash looks in that direction, trying to spot Tinu. The columns are rising and sinking into the floor randomly, and after a few seconds the one Tinu is crouched behind disappears. Wash runs toward her.

Tinu vaults onto one of the columns just as Wash reaches her. She aims a kick at his head, which misses as he ducks. Wash dodges a second kick, nearly losing his balance as he lunges out of the way. Tinu has the advantage with the high ground right now. Wash needs to match that if he’s going to stand a chance.

The column behind Wash begins to rise from the floor, and Wash steps back onto it. Once he’s on the same level as Tinu she sends another kick toward him. Wash blocks this with his hands, causing her to lose her balance. Tinu recovers quickly. Just a she’s about to attack again, her column begins to sink. Wash wants to take advantage of the changing height difference, but the columns are too far apart for him to reach her.

Suddenly, Tinu leaps up and forward, landing on the edge of Wash’s column. He stumbles back and manages to jump to another one. This leads to a chase around the room. Tinu flips and jumps between columns like an acrobat while Wash struggles to stay ahead of her. His clumsy and poorly planned jumps remind me of a kid using stones to cross a stream. I begin to think this fight is going to be entirely one-sided until, without warning, he turns around and kicks his foot out toward Tinu as she’s jumping toward him. She doesn’t have time to stop herself and slams into the foot with her stomach before falling to the ground.

Tinu lands on her feet. Wash wastes no time and jumps down from the stone column, kicking Tinu back as he falls. He advances toward her, never letting them be more than a foot apart. I nod admiringly. It’s a good technique. As long as they stay close, Tinu can’t use her longer reach to her advantage. Still, it doesn’t make her any less dangerous, as Wash soon learns when Tinu drives her knee into his stomach.

Wash responds with an elbow to her chin, snapping Tinu’s head back. She sends a clumsy punch toward Wash which he easily blocks with his forearm. For some reason, after Tinu’s arm is blocked by Wash’s, they don’t separate. They seem to be pulling away from each other and I can see an aggravated look on Tinu’s face. Suddenly, I realize what’s happened. Their arms are stuck together. I lean over the railing, trying to get a better look. It looks like the training pad on Tinu’s wrist has somehow gotten hooked onto Wash’s wrist armor.

Wash tries to tug free while Tinu pulls the other direction. Wash stops pulling for a moment. Tinu reaches for the strap holding the pad to her wrist. Before she has a chance to release it, Wash ducks down and rolls forward. The motion twists Tinu’s arm backward and pulls her to the ground while simultaneously ripping the training pad off her arm.

Wash gets to his feet first and turns to face Tinu. He takes a step toward her. Tinu, still lying on the ground, kicks toward him in a sweeping motion, hoping to knock Wash’s feet out from under him. Wash jumps back to avoid the blow. Tinu jumps to a standing position and charges toward Wash, shouting. I recognize that shout. She’s angry.

Tinu swings her fist toward Wash, not caring where it lands as long as she hits him. Wash jumps back, narrowly avoid the small but lethal fist. Tinu punches at him again and again, missing each time. Wash continues to back away from the onslaught until he feels his back pressed against something solid. One of the stone pillars is blocking his path. Tinu punches at Wash again and he blocks it with his hands, feeling the force of the hit send shockwaves through his arms. Another punch is sent his way, and Wash ducks, the blow barely missing his head.

The attack Tinu had aimed for Wash’s face misses and her fist collides with stone, imbedding itself in the column. Tinu tries to yank her hand out of the rock, but it won’t budge. Wash steps around the blonde and turns to face her. He raises a fist toward her shoulder. I hold my breath. I can tell from the angle that he could dislocate her shoulder if he were to hit hard enough. My hand edges toward the pistol on my hip, but I stop it. I tell myself I’m overreacting. It’ll be fine.

Wash brings his fist forward slowly and taps Tinu’s arm. “Match” he says.

The speakers quickly echo his announcement. “Match complete. Washington wins!”

I release the breath I’ve been holding and sigh with relief. I knew I could trust him.


	15. Confessions and Promises

I kick my legs slowly as they dangle over the edge of the catwalk. The training room below me is dark and empty, the day’s matches having ended hours ago. After Wash and Tinu’s fight, Silicon had convinced Tucker to give a demonstration of his sword. This had led to a series of sparring matches for anyone who wanted to show off to our new guests, which ended with a spectacular display of Nickel’s sniping ability. Now, the Sim-Troopers have settled into their rooms and everyone has turned in for the night. At least, that’s what I think until someone joins me.

I hear footsteps climbing up the ladder. I turn my head to see who it is, and for a moment I don’t recognize the brown haired man. Scent, however, is much more reliable to me than sight. A deep breath lets me know it’s Agent Washington. He looks different without his armor. Older.

He sits next to me and for a moment we’re both silent. Eventually, I speak up. “I’m sorry about Boron. He was out of line earlier.”

“Yes he was” Wash says, nodding. “But you shouldn’t be the one apologizing.”

I laugh humorlessly. “Well, I doubt that I’d be able to convince Boron to do it himself, so this is the best you’ll get.”

Wash turns to look at me. “What’s that guy’s problem?” he asks.

“I don’t know” I sigh. I’ve been trying to figure that out for a long time. “I think he’s still mad that I replaced him.”

“How did you replace him?”

I shift position uncomfortably, resting one of my hands on the metal rail of the catwalk. “When we were younger, when Manny and Carbon were sent away, mom rearranged the teams. Neon, Carbon’s partner, and I were all that was left of our team. We thought we’d be partnered together, but mom had other plans. She partnered me with Gold and sent his old partner, Boron, to another team with Neon.” I stare up at the ceiling and sigh again. “Mom didn’t care about whose personalities would fit best or how it would make us all feel to be split up. She only cared about ability. With Manny gone, Gold and I were the two best agents. It didn’t matter that I would rather stay with the last member of my team, or that Boron felt like he wasn’t good enough when he got kicked off of his team. She saw us as numbers on a chart and all she cared about was making those numbers go up.

“It didn’t help that Gold and I worked really well together. At first, Boron expected to get transferred back to his team because I wouldn’t work out. He didn’t think I could take his place. Instead, the team did better than ever before with me there. Gold and I thought similarly, so we barely had to communicate during fights. Platinum and Nickel, the other members of our team, welcomed me with open arms.”

I glance at Wash for a second, then look back down at the floor far below. “At the time, I just wanted to fit in somewhere. The rest of my team was gone and I felt like I’d lost my family. It was nice when I got along with my new team so well. By the time I realized how that made Boron feel, it was too late. He never forgave me, no matter how many times I asked. Since the attacks, things have only gotten worse with him. He blames me for leaving Gold behind.” I add quietly, to myself “he’s not wrong.”

“It’s more than that” Wash says. “He said you couldn’t trust us, like he thought we would hurt you or something. It’s not just him, either. Ever since we arrived, I’ve noticed people watching us. These people are on edge, like they think we’ll attack any second.” He turns slightly so he can look me in the eye while talking. “When you two were arguing, you mentioned someone else who was here before us. What happened then? Why is everyone so afraid?”

I look away from him. I don’t want to explain this. I don’t want to remember it. It’s still so fresh; it still stings to think about it. But I know I can’t avoid it. Washington won’t trust me if he thinks I’m hiding something from him, and I need him to trust me. It’s the only way I know to work with someone.

I take a deep breath and shut my eyes for a moment as I start to explain. “A few weeks ago, we found someone who we thought was a Freelancer, and we thought he might be able to help us, but he…” I stop for a second. “It was a disaster.”

“What happened?” Wash persists.

I glance at him for a second. “Neon and I had heard rumors about someone still living at one of Project Freelancer’s old training outposts. We thought that whoever was there might be able to lead us to Epsilon, so we went to check it out. When we got there, we found a lot of bodies. Red and Blue soldiers with armor in horrible states of disrepair were dead everywhere. We almost gave up, but Neon heard a noise from inside one of the bases. She went to check it out and found a single soldier. At first, we couldn’t tell what color his armor was because it was so dirty, but it turned out to be red.

“I should have known there was something wrong with him. He kept talking about how the others had ‘lost faith’ and that’s why the flag had failed to protect them. I had no idea what it meant. He was emaciated and dehydrated. I thought that he just needed some food or water and then he’d start making sense. I should have been more careful, but we were desperate and I wanted the lead to pan out…”

I sigh. “We got him onto the pelican. Neon was sitting in the back with him while I piloted. They were silent through most of the fight. Then, while I was starting to land, the red guy asked Neon something. I didn’t hear what it was, or what she told him, but I guess he didn’t like it. I could hear them start fighting, but I couldn’t do anything to stop it. If I went back there in the middle of landing we’d crash. Once we set down, I rushed back to see what was wrong. It had gotten very quiet.”

I stop again, shutting my eyes against the memories. “Neon never wore armor. She didn’t like the way it felt; always said it slowed her down and made her clumsy. The red guy had jumped her, somehow managed to get her knife off her belt. Without her armor, she had no protection. By the time I got back there it was too late. There was blood everywhere. Neon was on the ground and the guy was standing over her with her knife. He was staring at me, his visor splashed with blood. Then the back of the pelican opened. Nick and Silicon were standing there to greet us. The red guy turned toward them, raising the knife. I shot him before I even realized I’d touched my gun.”

I look back at Wash. His expression is unreadable. “That’s why everyone here is nervous about letting outsiders in. It’s why Nick and Tinu are trying their best to show that they trust you, hoping the others will follow that example. It’s why Boron pulled his little stunt earlier.”

I stop talking, waiting for Washington’s reaction. Finally, he breaks the silence by asking a question. “Why do you trust us?”

“What?”

“You don’t know us, and you just said that the last guy you tried to get help from murdered your sister.” Wash elaborates. “So, what makes us different? Why do you trust that my team and I won’t hurt your family?”

“I guess I don’t” I say honestly. “Not entirely. You said Manganese was your friend, so I assume he trusted you. And Carbon trusts you. Even though he’s not always the smartest, he has good instincts. He knows if someone means him harm. Those are opinions I don’t take lightly.” I stare ahead for a moment. “But, in the end, despite all of that, I still don’t fully trust you yet. I can’t until I know more about all of you.”

We sit in silence for a moment. I notice the movement of Wash’s eyes as he glances at my leg. Even though I’m not wearing armor, I still have my gun on me. I know the meaning of this doesn’t escape him. Even though I’m relaxed, I’m still ready to shoot if I need to. I won’t take chances again.

“I grew up on a small moon colony” Wash begins suddenly. “My parents ran a farm and I was an only child. They always believed that-“

“What are you doing?” I ask, cutting him off.

“Well, you said you couldn’t trust me until you knew more about me” Wash says. “So, here we go; life story time.”

“You don’t have to do that” I say, waving my hand at him.

“I want to” Wash says. “I want to help you, but I can’t do that if you’re constantly waiting for me to snap and attack. Rho’s told me pretty much everything about you and your family, and what you all have been through. It’s not right, and I want to do what I can to fix this.”

“Why?”

“Because” Wash says, looking away from me. “I turned a blind eye to the crimes going on around me for too long while I was with Project Freelancer. When the project ended, I didn’t want to trust anyone. I decided to do whatever it took to distance myself from it. I teamed up with one of the most dangerous beings in the universe, and nearly got the reds and blues killed in the process. And yet, even after everything I did, they saved me. Caboose convinced them to give me a second chance. They kept me out of prison and took me in, gave me a home. They trusted me, even after everything I’d done.”

Wash looks at me again. “Aside from the fact that it’s the right thing to do, aside from the fact that I want to prevent a war as much as the next guy, I’m doing this for Caboose. I owe him after what he’s done for me.”

I nod. Carbon may be an idiot, but he’s always had one thing that was worth more than any level of intelligence, and that was loyalty. If he gets it in his head that you’re his friend, nothing will ever be able to convince him otherwise. I’m glad that Washington realizes this. Not many people give Carbon a chance to prove himself after they first talk to him.

“Still” I say, bringing us back to a former topic, “the back story isn’t necessary. It doesn’t matter where you’ve come from or who you’ve been. What matters is who you are now. And no amount of words will ever convince me of that.”

“So, what can I do?” Wash asks.

“That fight earlier” I say. “There was a point where you had a chance to hurt Tinu, not just hit her during the fight, but really hurt her. For a moment, I was afraid you would. But you didn’t.” I look him in the eye as I speak. “I guess I need to see more of that. Show me you won’t hurt my family. That’s all I need to trust.”

I wait for a response, but none comes. We sit silently beside each other, each consumed in our own thoughts. I try to guess what Washington is thinking of, but my mind comes up blank. I hate not being able to guess his thoughts the way I can with most people. It makes me feel uneasy, vulnerable. I can’t anticipate his actions so I can’t prepare for what he might do. If he were an enemy, this could be fatal. I silently reprimand myself for thinking like this. He’s not my enemy, and I need to stop being paranoid.

“How old are you?” Wash suddenly asks.

I’m so distracted by my own thoughts that for a moment I don’t acknowledge the question. When I do, I think I must have misheard. “What?”

“It’s just, you seem a little young to be involved in this type of stuff” Wash explains.

“Oh my god, I know I’m short!” I exclaim. “I don’t need people to keep pointing it out.”

He laughs for a moment, and I decide that I like the sound. There haven’t been enough laughs around here lately.

“I’m twenty-seven” I say, once the laughter’s died down, “by Earth Standard Years.” I look at him, daring him to make a single comment about my age. I know that if I’d had a normal life and joined the UNSC under normal circumstances, it would have been nearly impossible to get rated for Spartan armor while so young. I suppose there are a few perks to being a genetic experiment.

“And the others?” Wash asks, once again serious.

“Carbon, Platinum, Nickel, and the others from their batch are all twenty-one” I answer. “The next group down is fourteen. Then there’s Silicon, Francium, and Rubidium, who are each ten.”

“You weren’t exaggerating when you said they were kids” Wash remarks. There’s a pause for a moment as he thinks of something. “Wait, you said Nickel is younger than you?” I nod. “How is that possible? He looks older than me.”

“Dr. Han was trying to find a way to make us age faster” I say. “When she made Nick, she altered the section of his DNA that controlled aging. It worked, but there’s no way to slow it down. He’s only been alive for twenty-one years, but physically he’s in his fifties.”

“And he’ll just keep aging like this?” Wash asks.

“Yep” I sigh. “According to some of mom’s notes, he has ten, maybe fifteen years left.” My eyes unfocus as I stare into space for a second. “And yet, you’d be hard pressed to find a happier, more content person.” I lock eyes with Wash again. “It’s not fair, the fact that he has to live every day knowing how little time he has left. It’s not fair that there’s nothing anyone can do to help him. But in the end it’s just another thing that Dr. Han has done to us.”

“She’ll answer for it” Wash says. “I promise.”

I laugh humorlessly. “Oh, she’d better. I won’t stop until that woman’s behind bars.”


	16. The Next Day

For a moment, I feel as though I’ve been somewhere else doing something else. There’s a noise piercing through my thoughts, making it impossible for me to remember. I turn my head, growling in annoyance as I try to find the source of the noise. This movement is enough to shake me out of my dream.

My eyes snap open and I flail my arm in the direction of the beeping. My hand passes through the hologram, and the clock shuts off. I lie still for a moment, trying to remember what my dream had been about, but it’s no use. The more I think about it, the more the memory of it fades. I roll to the edge of the bed with a groan. I can tell I’ve slept later than I intended, although it’s still not enough. Rho must have reset my clock again. I’ll have to remember to scold her for it later.

I stand and turn on the lights. I move to the mirror and pull my shirt to the side, revealing my injured shoulder. It feels better than yesterday, although still not fully healed, which bothers me. Still, removing the bandage shows that the wound is closed. It’s something.

I throw on some grey sweatpants and a shirt; the same standard issue clothing I’ve been wearing my whole life. I step out of my room and turn left, heading toward the conference room where I left Rho. Even though I slept in, no one else should be up for a while still. I want to take some time to go over the information we’ve gathered before getting the day started.

Rho appears over the table when I enter the room, standing next to a pot of coffee. She must have known this would be my first stop and made it in preparation. I can’t help but think of it as a peace offering to apologize for the tampered alarm.

I grab a mug and pour a cup before acknowledging her. She walks around the table aimlessly, kicking her projected foot through papers. I watch her as I take a sip of the dark, bitter liquid, then set down the mug and clear my throat. When Rho turns to look at me, I freeze her to the spot with a glare.

“You messed with my alarm” I say. She shifts comfortably under my stare, and I cover up my desire to laugh with fake annoyance. “I told you to stop doing that.”

“You got hurt yesterday” Rho says defensively. “I thought you needed your sleep.”

“You know sleep isn’t the problem here” I say, finally pulling my eyes away from the glowing form on the table.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you need rest as much as anyone else, Silver.” Rho’s voice takes on an almost pleading quality. “You need to stop pushing yourself so hard.”

I sigh. Sometimes it seems like she inherited the Alpha’s mothering instincts, the way she worries about us. I suppose it’s normal for her to care, though. She and I have shared a mind often enough that I sometimes wonder if she can read my thoughts. Still, I know she’s wrong in this. No amount of sleep will fix my problems, and there’s too much work to do for me to get the luxury of proper rest.

“What do we have?” I ask, hitting a button on the table to activate a floating hologram. The same files appear in the air; dead leads and clues too vague to do any good stare me in the face as I sip the coffee.

“Same as yesterday” Rho says matter-of-factly.

I growl slightly. I guess I had expected this. I managed to find us some allies yesterday, but that hasn’t changed what’s on this table. We’re out of clues, and aside from seeing Gold yesterday there’s been no sign of Dr. Han for weeks. I study the information for a few minutes. Like the last thousand times, fresh inspirations and astonishing breakthroughs utterly fail to appear.

I set the cup down a little harder than intended, causing some of the coffee to spill. Rho steps away from the slosh of liquid in disgust. “Careful” she says, watching the dark drink stain the pages around her.

“It’s still a dead end” I say through gritted teeth.

“Why are you so angry?” Rho asks. “You knew the situation before you went to bed last night.”

I run a hand through my still un-brushed hair, pulling a few strands away from my face. “I’m mad because I’m an idiot” I say. “I didn’t make any progress yesterday, but I fooled myself into thinking that I had. I kept thinking that these new allies of ours would turn things around for us, but that’s just stupid. They’re not what we need.”

“What do we need?” Rho asks cautiously.

I glare down at the newly stained papers. The phrase ‘AI theory’ is visible on one. “We need Epsilon” I finally answer. “The whole reason I went searching for those sim-troopers was to find him, but he wasn’t there. So now we’re back to square one.”

“Don’t see why you need Epsilon so much” Rho mutters.

I glance down at the AI, my anger fading slightly. She’s been showing some very jealous tendencies lately. According to what I’ve read, this is normal for an AI once they become fully bonded to their host. Still, it worries me slightly. I know she’s still not entirely stable, and the last thing I need is for her to start having jealous or possessive episodes like I’ve read about.

“You know I wouldn’t replace you” I say, hoping I sound reassuring. “Epsilon is the Alpha’s memories, and Alpha was copied from Project Freelancer’s Director, Leonard Church. He and mom grew up together. He knew her better than anyone else. If anyone would know where to find her, it would have been him. The closest we’re going to get is Epsilon.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it” Rho says grouchily. “I just don’t like the idea of some other AI running around in my computers. I finally got this place set up the way I like it.”

I roll my eyes. Rho is also a little territorial at times. I’ve worried at points if this added with her jealous moods could be a sign of rampancy, but she’s too young for that. AIs usually don’t go rampant until they’ve been active for six or seven years, and Rho’s only been around for four. Still, she’s not a full AI, so there’s no real way to anticipate what will happen with her. I just hope she’ll stick around for a good long time. She’s a valuable ally and a good friend.

“At least you found Carbon” Rho says cheerily.

“Yeah” I agree, a smile edging onto my face as I start to clear away the wet papers. “There is that.”

“The rest seem nice too” Rho adds. She steps around my hands as I dry off the table.

“They are” I say as I walk to the trash bin in the corner. “I didn’t say they were bad people, just not what I was hoping for. I’m sure they’ll help where they can.” There are a few moments of silence between us as I clean the mess.

“I like them!” Rho announces enthusiastically. “I think having new people around will be good for everyone.”

I give in and smile down at the AI. Rho smiles too, smug in the fact that she was able to cheer me up. She always tries to do this when I’m mad at myself. Unfortunately, she knows me well enough that it almost always works.

“Come on” I say, reaching down for the spot where she plugs into the table.

Rho’s glowing body disappears as she prepares to be removed. I pull her out of the table and plug her into my head, stiffening for a disorienting couple of seconds. It’s gotten easier since I’ve been using her more often, but the first few moments are still jarring for both of us.

Once Rho’s settled in, she appears on my shoulder. “Where are we going?”

“To find the sim-troopers” I answer, turning off the holographic projectors as I leave the room. “They’re still our best lead for finding Epsilon.”

“But they said they don’t know where he is” Rho points out.

“No, but they might have some idea of where he would go or what he’s doing” I explain. “If they know why he left then we can use that to guess where he’s gone.”

“It’ll still be just a guess” Rho says.

I sigh and turn in the direction of the living quarters. “That’s the best we’re going to get. At least it’ll be a place to start, which is better than what we have now.”


	17. Breakfast

I walk down the hall toward the sim-troopers’ rooms. While I’m still a few yards away from the first door I hear Agent Washington’s voice.

“Tucker, you can’t stay in bed all day. I know you’re awake, now get up.”

There’s a muffled response of “don’t wanna.”

I hear the sound of a blanket being yanked away, followed by Wash’s shout. “Oh, for the love of God, Tucker! Stop sleeping naked!” Upon hearing this I decide to get no closer to the open door. Rho agrees with this plan.

“No way” Tucker’s voice drifts out of the room. “It’s my only defense against morning wake up calls.”

“Maybe I should try that tactic.” I look down the hall and see Grif and Simmons on the other side of the door, keeping a safe distance. “It might stop Sarge from bothering me every day.”

“Don’t you dare” Simmons responds. “Having to deal with Donut on laundry day is bad enough.” Both soldiers shudder in disgust. “Besides” Simmons continues, “Sarge always threatens to shoot you from the doorway, so it wouldn’t work.”

“Meh, it was worth a shot” Grif says apathetically.

“That’s obviously working very well for you,” Wash’s sarcastic comment interrupts the reds’ conversation. “Now put some clothes on and get out here.”

Wash steps out of the room as the two red soldiers turn and walk down the hall. He looks embarrassed when he notices me standing there. “Were you there the whole time?” he asks nervously. I nod. “Well, I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Sorry you had to see it.”

“Um, was there something you needed?” he asks, obviously trying to get both our minds away from their previous thoughts.

I draw my attention back to the Freelancer. “I need to know if you have any idea where Epsilon is.”

Wash shakes his head. “He and Carolina left without telling us where they were going.”

“Agent Carolina? I thought she was dead” I say.

“I think that’s what she wanted everyone to think.”

“And you don’t have any idea where they went? Not even a clue or anything?” I press. “Did they mention what they were going to do when they left?”

Wash leans against the wall for a moment, thinking. “The day before they left, Carolina and I were talking about what we’d been doing before we found the Director. She said she’d spent a few years tracking down Freelancer equipment that had made its way onto the black market. That’s what lead her to the information she needed to find the Director, which lead her to us. If I were to guess, I’d say that’s what she’s up to now.”

“Tracking Freelancer tech” I muse. “I take it she doesn’t like to leave things unfinished.”

Wash shakes his head. “I don’t think Carolina will be satisfied until she destroys every trace of the Project.”

Rho pops up on my shoulder at this comment. “Does that include AIs?” she asks nervously.

“I think she’s giving AIs a free pass” Wash laughs.

“Good” Rho says.

“If she’s looking for Freelancer equipment, then the best way to find her would be to start there” I say. “If we find what she’s looking for, then we might find her as well.”

“Do you know where to start?” Wash asks.

I smile. “I know a guy who has a way of obtaining questionable items” I say. “We’ve bought most of our equipment from him. If anyone knows who’s selling stuff from Project Freelancer, it’s him.”

“That sounds less than legal,” Wash remarks.

“You really want to start questioning if what we’re doing is legal _now_?”

“No, just making an observation” Wash states casually. “It also sounds expensive. Operations like this aren’t cheap. How do you pay for it all?”

“One of my first missions, after deactivating everyone’s chips, was to drain Dr. Han’s accounts. She came from a wealthy family, so we ended up with a lot of credits.” I smile slightly as I speak. “I thought it would be ironic if we used her own funds to track her down.”

“Cripple the enemy financially” Wash nods. “Not the most glamorous of techniques, but effective.”

“And necessary” I add. “Without that money, we’d have had to give up a long time ago.”

“Washingtub!” The shout comes from down the hall. I look over Wash’s shoulder and see Caboose running toward us. He stops for a moment outside Tucker’s door. “Did you forget pants time again?”

A rolled up sock flies past Caboose’s head. “Go away!” A moment later, the door closes.

Agent Washington turns to face the young man approaching him. “What is it, Caboose?” Caboose stares blankly at him. “Was there something you needed to tell me?” Wash asks patiently.

I watch with interest as Wash calmly puts up with Caboose’s slowness. It’s a sign of a good leader, the way he refuses to snap at the often times frustratingly dumb man. It makes me happy. I know he isn’t easy to work with, and I’m glad he found people who could handle it.

“Oh, yes” Caboose says. “That is why I came here.” There’s another long pause as Wash and I wait for Caboose to speak.

“What is it?” Wash prompts again.

“Nick wanted me to tell you… something” Caboose says finally. “I think it was something important.”

“He wanted you to tell me something important” Wash says slowly, an edge of annoyance creeping into his voice. “Can you remember what the important thing was?”

Caboose thinks for a moment. “Yes.”

“What was the important thing, Caboose?”

“I forget.”

“Alright” Wash says, taking a deep breath. “Thank you for coming to tell me that.” Caboose smiles and runs off down the hall. Wash turns to me and I attempt to cover up the fact that I’m trying not to laugh.

I activate the radio in my helmet and call Nick. “Did you need to tell Agent Washington anything important?” I ask.

“No” Nick answers slowly, as though he’s trying to remember. “Why?”

“Carbon was just here with a message, but he forgot what it was” I explain.

“Oh, that” Nick says. In my mind I picture his widening eyes as he remembers. “I just wanted to let him and his team know that breakfast is ready.”

“Did someone say breakfast?” Tucker asks as he steps into the hall. I’m relieved to see that he is now dressed.

“Mess hall’s this way” I say, walking down the hall. “Follow me.”

 

“This is real food” Grif says, staring at his plate in disbelief. Rather than the pre-packaged military rations he’s used to, the plate is filled with eggs, pancakes, and a fruit he doesn’t recognize.

“Well, it looks pretty suspicious when a bunch of civilians try to buy military supplies” I say, sitting across from him and Simmons. Wash and Tucker take seats on either side of me.

“Oh, I’m not complaining” Grif says before he starts eating.

Simmons approaches the food more cautiously. “What is this?” he asks, holding up the strange purple-blue fruit.

“Honk blargh” Nick says, sitting next to him. “Don’t worry, they’re safe for humans.”

“Does it need to be peeled?” Simmons questions, still eyeing the fruit uncertainly.

“I hope not” Grif says with his mouth full. I look over and see a large bite mark in the side of his fruit.

“You could at least swallow first” Simmons scolds. He covers his plate with his hands to protect it from Grif’s mess.

“It’s been forever since we’ve had real food” Grif says. “I don’t want to ruin the experience by bothering with manners.”

“That’s exactly why I want to savor it” Simmons says.

“Is it good?” Wash asks.

“I think they’re great” Tucker says. He picks up the fruit and takes a bite before adding “and Junior loves them.”

“It tastes like bacon” Grif mumbles around another mouthful.

Wash stares at the thing for another second before setting it back on his plate. “I’m not feeling that adventurous” he says.

Grif snorts and Simmons starts carefully dissecting the food on his plate.

“Speaking of food” Nick says after a moment of silence, “we’re starting to run low on supplies.”

I nod, swallowing. “Okay. I’ll make a run later.”

“No” Nick says. “Tinu and I can do it. You should stay here.”

“It’s just a supply run” I say, glancing at him across the table. “I can handle it.”

“Exactly” Nick says. “It’s a simple mission, so you should let us do it.” He sees that I’m about to argue and holds up a hand to stop me. “You go on every mission, Si. For the past month you haven’t let anyone else leave the base. I know you want to keep us safe, but we’re going crazy locked up in here when we could be helping.”

“You know the rule. No leaving without armor” I start.

“Tinu and I have armor” Nick says. “You need to stay here and plan. Let us handle this.”

I close my eyes for a moment, thinking. Then I look back at Nick and say “fine.” His look of triumph fades when I add “but Washington and I are coming with you.”

“Why?” Nick asks.

“We need to run an errand” I answer. “You and Tinu can get the supplies while we’re busy.”

Nick nods, apparently accepting the compromise. He finishes his food quickly and goes to tell Tinu. One by one, everyone at the table finishes their food and wanders away.

“So, what’s this errand?” Wash asks.

“Remember my ‘less than legal’ sounding friend?” I ask. Wash nods and I continue. “He has a store on the planet where we usually buy most of our supplies. I figure while Tinu and Nick are busy shopping we can ask him if he knows where to find Freelancer tech.”

“Why do you want me to come with you?” Wash asks. “Wouldn’t you rather have someone you know backing you up?”

“Well, this should be an easy mission” I start to explain. “This guy’s a sneaky jerk, but he’s not dangerous. I’ve worked with him enough times before to know what to expect. I need you because you know Agent Carolina. You’ll be able to guess her plans better than me.”

Wash nods. “Alright” he says, standing and picking up his tray. “How long ‘til we leave?”

“One hour” I say. I poke at the mostly untouched food on my plate before standing and walking to the trash. “There’s something I need to take care of first.”


	18. Yttrium

I can hear the clicks and whirs of machinery before I even open the door. I step into the room and am immediately assaulted by the smell of motor oil and rubber. Half finished projects, burnt husks of metal, and spare parts lie scattered across tables and workbenches.

“Yttri?” I call out, not sure if my mechanically-minded sister is even in here.

A face obscured by large black goggles and surrounded by curly hair appears over the top of a large engine. “Two minutes” she says, before disappearing once again.

For the thousandth time I wonder how she ever finds anything in this room. There is no rhyme or reason to where anything is. I finally decide that she must be putting her photographic memory to good use.

I hear a thump and turn to find the source of the noise. It’s not like the usual droning of engines that fills the room. This sound lacks any discernable pattern, and seems to be coming from a nearby closet. I open the closet and clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh.

_“This is not funny_ ”, Lopez says from his place on the floor.

My nod of agreement is counteracted by the hand still clamped over my mouth. I knew we were low on parts, but I didn’t think Yttri would resort to _this_ to repair the robot.

Lopez has four metal wheels haphazardly screwed into the sides of his head and a small stun gun on the side of his visor. “It’s sort of an improvement” I finally manage.

_“This is ridiculous and insulting”_ Lopez says, rolling out of the closet. His movement is accompanied by a grinding sound of metal on metal.

“Why were you in the closet?” I ask.

“Because he wouldn’t stop bugging me” Yttri answers from behind me.

_“You_ ” Lopez says as I spin around to greet her. _“You’re the one who did this.”_

Yttrium points a wrench at the disembodied helmet threateningly. “Try it and I’ll shut your voice off again.”

“Try what?” I ask, wondering how they managed to become enemies in the twelve hours since Lopez got here. Granted, Yttri isn’t exactly a people person, but she’s normally good with machines.

“This little rat kept ramming me in the ankles last night, after all the work I did to fix him!”

_“You didn’t fix me”_ Lopez complains.

Yttri waves the wrench around while counting on her fingers. “I gave you mobility, combat capabilities, and reset your speech systems.”

_“I can still only speak Spanish, this isn’t a real gun, and these wheels are humiliating.”_

“Well, excuse me for trying to make the best of things” Yttri says.

“Why didn’t you just fix him normally?” I ask, hand on my forehead.

“I don’t have the parts” Yttri says. “If I had a couple months to rework some of what I do have, then maybe I could make it work. As it is, I need to fix the hornet. That’s top priority.” She looks back down at Lopez. “I don’t get what your problem is, anyway. You’re like a mini tank.”

_“This is unacceptable”_ Lopez mutters.

_I honestly have no idea how to handle this_ , I think, staring down at Lopez. Finally I decide to just ignore him. “I need a list of whatever parts and materials you need” I say, turning to face Yttri.

Yttri grabs a scrap of paper from one of the tables and begins writing. “Going shopping?” she asks as she hands it to me.

I nod, staring at the barely legible writing. “Do we really need all of this?” I ask, noting the many mechanical items listed.

“Yes” she answers simply.

I decide not to question her. I honestly don’t understand how most of what Yttrium does works. It’s best to simply leave her to her work and trust that she knows what she’s doing.

_“Make sure to get me a new body_ ” Lopez adds.

“I already put that on the list” Yttri says dismissively.

_“Good”_ Lopez says, rolling under a table. I watch him for another moment before turning and leaving the room.

 

After donning my forest green Mjolnir armor, I put my helmet on and activate my HUD. Rho immediately creates a tiny avatar of herself in the top right corner and runs a diagnostic. “Everything is in working order” she announces. I nod. I already checked it all last night, but it’s nice to have Rho double check things.

I make sure that I have all my weapons, including a new knife to replace the one I lost while fighting Gold. For a moment I wonder how many new scars he must have because of me, but dismiss the thought with a sigh. No use dwelling on it. He’ll just have to find a way to live with it when this is all over.

I walk to the hangar and see Nick and Wash waiting by the pelican. Agent Washington is once again wearing his blue and gold armor while Nick is wearing a bulkier version of my own suit, but in light brown. As I get closer, I realize that Lico is with them. The boy gives me a hopeful look, but I shake my head before he has a chance to say anything. “No” I say.

“Please” Lico begs. I try to ignore the big puppy-like eyes he fixes on me, but it’s no use. “I want to help.”

I close my eyes briefly. I know this isn’t fair to him. He and all the others are basically trapped here, and even though it’s for their own safety, it’s still suffocating. Still, he’s too young for something like this. I need to keep him here where it’s safe. I drop to one knee and put a hand on his shoulder. “I need you here” I say.

“No you don’t” he complains. “All I’m doing here is waiting for something to happen. I want to be out there doing something.”

“I need you to watch Rubi” I explain. “If something goes wrong, you need to make sure she and Franc are okay. Remember, you’re their team leader. You need to stay with them.” He looks like he’s about to argue, but I point one finger to his chest. “Your team comes first” I say sternly.

Lico folds his arms with a huff. “Fine” he grumbles.

I ruffle his hair for a second before pushing him toward the hangar door. Rather than leave, Lico turns around and catches me in a tight hug. I squeeze him back, careful to not let the added strength from my armor get out of hand.

“Be careful” Lico says, voice cracking.

“Don’t worry” I say, smiling. “I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet!” Tinu squeals behind him. I look up to see her dressed in a suit of giant, bright purple Hayabasu armor.

Lico pulls away with an embarrassed blush on his face. He turns and runs out of the room without another word.

“I didn’t mean to upset him” Tinu says, voice managing to indicate the unseen pout on her lips as she holsters twin needlers.

Nick laughs. “Silicon’s getting to that age where he doesn’t want to be cute anymore” Nick explains to her while adjusting the sniper rifle on his back. “Just like when I stopped letting you do my hair. He wants to be big and strong and help fight.” He climbs into the back of the pelican and walks to the pilot seat. Tinu, Wash, and I take our seats in the back.

“How long will it take to get there?” Wash asks. I glance over and see that he has a battle rifle on his back. Apparently none of us trust our ability to stay out of a fight. Or maybe we just know we’re not that lucky.

“About two hours” Nick calls from the cockpit. I hear the engines kick on as he flips some switches.

“Where exactly are we going?” Wash asks, surprised.

“It’s a nearby star system” Tinu says.

“Pelicans can’t fly that far, especially not in two hours” Wash says.

“They can if they use slip space” I correct him.

“This ship has a slip space engine?” Wash asks skeptically. Normally those engines are big enough to fill the entire hangar.

“It’s a micro engine” I explain. “Yttrium made it.”

“That shouldn’t be physically possible” Wash says slowly, trying to remember what he’s read about faster than light travel.

“I don’t know how she managed it” I admit. “She’s kind of a genius.

“Okay, people, buckle up” Nick calls back. “We’re about to take off.”


	19. Spore

We land in a field outside a small town. Dust wafts into the ship when the back opens. This place has a strangely old west feel, despite the space ships parked all around and the aliens running most of the stores. Nick and Tinu head to where they know they can buy food and other necessities in bulk, and I shout out a reminder to get real food. Nick answers with a wave of his hand.

“Yeah, we’ll probably be eating Oreos for the next month” I comment, watching them leave.

“At least Grif will be happy” Wash says, standing next to me.

I start to lead him into town, trying to gather as little attention as possible. I notice Wash watching the people we pass. “Something wrong?” I ask.

“No” Wash says, attention snapping back to me. “It’s just, there aren’t a lot of humans here.”

I nod. “Yeah, we do kind of stand out” I admit. “There used to be a lot more humans here, in fact it was a pretty even mix between every species. Things have changed since the attacks, though.” A group of Sangheli and Unggoy children are playing in the street ahead of us. When they see Wash and I, they run into a nearby house. I sigh. “A lot of aliens have started to fear humans again, and a lot of humans don’t feel comfortable living on planets with aliens anymore. They can all tell we’re close to another war, and they don’t want to be stuck somewhere where their neighbors today could be their enemies tomorrow.”

I wait for a response from Wash, but none comes. We continue to weave through the town. The people we pass give us suspicious and sometimes even fearful looks. I try my best not to make eye contact with them, even though they wouldn’t be able to tell with my helmet. I don’t want to look like I’m challenging anyone by looking directly at them, and to be honest I feel too guilty to see their faces. I can’t help but wonder how many of these people had family or friends that either I or my family killed. My guess would be a lot.

Eventually we stop in front of what looks like a farming supplies store. “This is the place?” Wash asks with surprise.

“You expected it to be obvious?” I say, stepping forward and holding the door open. Wash steps inside and I glance behind me before following him.

The store is dark; the only light in the building filters in through windows caked in dust. Wash bumps into a stand of oddly serrated shovels and I reach out to stop them falling.

“Careful!” an angry voice calls from across the room. I look up and see a familiar face behind a counter. The jackal-like Kig-Yar grumbles as he stands up and slowly makes his way toward us. “I swear, if I had a credit for every time some merc wannabe who didn’t know how to clean his own boots came in here and made a mess with their oversized human trash armor, I could close up shop” he grumbles.

“I see you’re just as friendly as ever, Spore” I say sarcastically.

Spore stares at me for a moment before recognition flashes in his eyes. “Oh, it’s _you_ ” he says with contempt.

“Really? That’s how you greet all your most loyal customers?” I ask.

“Only the annoying ones” he hisses.

I nod expressively. “I see. So, it’s annoying when I happen to see through all the ways you try to cheat us? Is that it?”

“It would certainly be easier if you didn’t” he mutters. I stare at him for a moment before he finally smiles mischievously. “Nice to see you again, Sylvia.”

Wash turns from where he’s been trying to rebalance the shovels and looks at me. “Sylvia?”

“That is your name, isn’t it?” Spore asks.

“Sometimes” I say slowly. I shoot Wash a glare that he can’t see through the helmet. Spore probably already knew that I used an alias with him, so it’s not like the Freelancer really gave anything away. Still, I like to be less obvious about when I lie to people.

Spore rolls his eyes with a huff. “Anyway, I’m assuming you came here for something other than farm supplies” he says as he walks back to the counter. “I think I have some stuff you’ll like” he adds. He presses a button on the wall and the top of the counter slides away to reveal a hidden compartment. From this compartment Spore removes a box filled with various devices.

I recognize a few of the devices in the box and immediately decide that most are fakes, the rest are broken, and none of them are the best he has in the store. I also know that Spore is aware I know this. It’s like a test for him, a game. If a customer can see past this initial deception, then he’ll consider selling them something better. Otherwise, the customer isn’t worth the work he went through to acquire the products. Since I’ve already passed this test before I assume it’s meant for Washington this time.

Wash steps toward the counter and peers down into the box. He picks up a small square object that looks like it’s designed to clip onto the lower back of the Mjolnir armor. “Speed unit?” he asks, glancing at Spore.

Spore smiles cheerily and nods, the slight crest of feathers on his head bobbing as he does so. “Yep. The very latest in armor upgrading technology, specially formatted to fit all styles of Spartan armor” he brags.

Wash stares at the device for another moment, and I hear a faint chuckle. “You mean an outdated sprint ability that the UNSC hasn’t used since the battle of Reach” he says matter-of-factly.

Spore’s smile widens further. “You’re absolutely right.” He turns and hit another button, this one causing a panel in the wall to slide away. He waves for Wash and I to follow as he enters the newly revealed secret hall. “The real stuff’s back here.”

“Was that a test?” Wash leans toward me and whispers as we walk down the dark hall. I nod.

At the end of the hall Spore turns on a light, illuminating a pristine white room filled with weapons and armor, as well as dozens of other illegal items of both human and alien origin. “Here it is” Spore says proudly. He gestures widely with his arm to indicate the room’s collection. “The finest in military technology, without the added hassle of normal legal channels.” He stares intently at me and Wash. “Now, what are you looking for?”

I pick up a small speed unit off one of the shelves, noting the distinctive Freelancer design. “Actually, we’re looking for information” I say, turning the unit over in my hands.

Spores eyes narrow suspiciously. “What kind of information?”

“We’re looking for a woman” Wash begins.

“Aren’t we all?” Spore muses wistfully.

“We think” Wash continues as I stifle a laugh, “that she’s tracking down equipment salvaged from project Freelancer and shutting down anyone who sells it.”

“I figured if anyone would know about smugglers and traders going out of business, it’d be you” I add.

Spore thinks for a moment, then nods. “I have had a few deliveries go missing” he admits slowly. “And now that you mention it, they were all from people who’d sold me Freelancer stuff in the past.”

“Are you gonna tell us what you know about it?” I ask.

“That depends” Spore responds, voice and demeanor changing slightly. I recognize this change and know he’s preparing to negotiate. “What’s in it for me?” he asks, smiling broadly.

I roll my eyes. “How about the fact that we’ll be stopping someone who’s endangering your business” I suggest.

“You can’t expect me to believe that you’re searching for this woman because she’s been disrupting my business,” Spore scoffs. “If I know you, you’re looking for her because you need her help, and since you’re fairly honest, her helping you will probably benefit her as well. This woman’s trying to put me out of business, so anything that’s good for her is bad for me.” He walks around the room, eyes idly scanning the shelves. “I _could_ help you find her,” he says eventually, “but it’ll cost you.”

“What do you want, Spore?” I say irritably.

Before he has a chance to answer a bell rings at the front of the store, signaling the entrance of new customers. Spore glances down the hall behind me. “I’ll be right back” he says, lip twitching slightly. I watch as he sprints down the hall into the regular section of the store, closing the door behind him.

“He’s interesting” Wash comments.

“Something’s not right” I mutter. I’ve only ever seen Spore’s lip twitch like that twice, once when we first met and he told me this was a regular farming store, and once again when he tried to sell me a healing unit he knew was fake. It’s the only tell he has when he lies.

I creep down the hall and listen at the door. A voice whispers excitedly and is answered by a deeper, authoritative voice, but I can’t tell what they’re saying. I pull the door open a crack to take a peek. Spore is standing near the store’s entrance, gesturing excitedly at the door I’m crouched behind as he speaks to two Covenant soldiers. “Oh, crap” I whisper.


	20. Speedy

“What’s wrong?” Wash asks and I jump slightly. Somehow he managed to sneak up next to me without me noticing.

“Spore’s ratting us out” I answer. My attention is drawn back to the crack in the door when the alien in question lets out a cry of protest. The soldiers place electrified restraints on Spore’s wrists. Spore tugs against the restraints for a second, causing the device to send a shock through his hands. He shouts and then holds very still. The two soldiers mutter something and start slowly moving through the store toward the hidden room.

I turn and walk back down the hall, Wash following behind me. “We need to see if there’s a back way out of here” I say. I walk around the room quickly, glancing behind shelves and feeling along bare patches of wall. Nothing obvious jumps to my attention.

“How about this?” Wash asks. I walk over to where he’s standing by a pile of boxes. He points to a vent in the ceiling. The boxes underneath the vent are stacked in a stairway pattern. “It would be a tight fit for a human” he explains, “but for someone like Spore…”

I nod. Wash is right; this is probably Spore’s emergency exit. Unfortunately, it’s too small for either of us.

“No good” I say. “There’s no way either of us would fit in there.” I remember something and smile suddenly, climbing onto the boxes.

“What are you doing?” Wash asks.

“I’ve got a plan” I say. There’s a small device holstered next to my gun which I grab. I flip a switch on the device and six metal legs sprout from the side, making it look like a hand-sized spider. I place the thing in the vent and drop back to the floor.

“What was that?” Wash asks.

“You might want to turn on your suit’s air supply” I say in lieu of an answer. Rho activates mine as I speak and I get a tingly sensation in the back of my head that lets me know she’s laughing. She’s always wanted to use this plan.

“Why?” Wash asks as he complies.

Before I have a chance to answer we hear an explosion from the other room, followed by shouting and coughing. I sprint down the hall toward the door, waving for Wash to follow me. The two soldiers are in the middle of the store, one crouched on his knees coughing while the other rubs at his eyes. Spore is standing between them, trying his best to cough without moving to avoid being zapped again. I stop in front of Spore and Wash continues to the door.

“We’d better hurry” he says, looking through the dusty windows. “It looks like there are more of them out there.”

“Okay” I say. I focus my attention on Spore’s restraints. I’ve read about this type before but have never seen one. I know they’re tricky, and can cause serious harm to whoever’s wearing them if they’re tampered with. With Rho’s direction, I manage to deactivate the restraints and get them off of Spore. I grab his wrist and pull him with me as I move toward the exit. Spore struggles, dragging his feet in an attempt to stop me. “If you don’t want to go to jail then you’d better come with us” I hiss. Spore seems to consider this for a moment before ceasing his struggles, though he by no means makes it easy for me to drag him along.

We duck out of the building as inconspicuously as possible, which is difficult considering that the sound of the explosion carried out to the street and Spore is still coughing uncontrollably. Still, we manage to avoid too much attention as we sneak a few blocks away and hide in an alley.

“What was that?” Wash asks after a moment.

“A little thing Yttri made,” I explain. “It tracks body heat to find the highest concentration of people then detonates a flashbang and releases tear gas into the air.”

“You are insane,” Spore spits out between coughs.

I glare at the alien. “So says the man who tried to sell us out.”

“Don’t even give me that” Spore says angrily. “They told me who you are, what you’ve done. You and your family are all terrorists!”

“That’s not-“ I start to argue, but he keeps talking.

“I had family living in those colonies!” he shouts. “My cousin almost died because of you!”

I clamp a hand over his snout, holding his jaws shut. Soldiers are patrolling up and down the streets and we need to be quiet if we don’t want to get caught. “Listen” I order, staring in his eyes. Spore’s eyes narrow, but he stops trying to talk. “It’s not like they made it sound” I whisper. “We were tricked. All we want is to find the person responsible for all of this.” I release Spore’s mouth, still holding his arm in case he tries to run.

“Why should I believe you?” Spore whispers back contemptuously.

“Have I ever lied to you?” I ask jokingly.

A smile tugs at Spore’s lips. “Only every day we’ve ever spoken.”

“So you know how bad I am at it” I conclude. I’m trying to use the smiling, joking style of negotiating that I’m used to with Spore, but he’s not falling for it. This is too serious for that. So I drop the act and let some of my guilt show through. “I hate what we’ve done” I say seriously. “I never meant for this to happen and now, I’m just trying to make it right.” Spore’s eyes turn accusing at these words. We both know it can never be made right. “I know I can never undo what’s been done, but I can bring the person responsible to justice.”

Spore seems to think about this for a while. “That’s why you’re looking for this woman?” he asks eventually.

“We think she can help us” Wash says.

Spore looks between us for a moment. Then he half sighs, half growls. “I’m going to regret this” he mutters, pulling something out of a concealed pocket. He hands me a data chip. “I was gathering information on this woman already, planning on hiring someone to deal with her. Considering that Covenant soldiers are all over my shop now, though, I guess I’m already out of business anyway.”

I thank Spore and push the chip into a slot on my helmet, letting Rho download all the information. “What will you do now?” I ask.

Spore smiles. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ve got money stashed all over this world, and there are plenty of people here who owe me favors. I’ll be off planet and setting up shop somewhere new before you know it.”

I glance toward the end of the alley. “You’ll probably want to get going, then” I say. “Don’t want to be seen with us.”

Spore nods and heads to the end of the alley. Before he turns the corner out of sight, he glances back at me. “When you find the person responsible for this, whoever it is, make them pay” he says, and then disappears.

Wash and I head to the other end of the alley where it opens into a narrow street. This road doesn’t get a lot of traffic, and most of the buildings lining it look abandoned. I don’t see any soldiers. We head toward the side of town where the pelican is. “Rho, tell Nick and Tinu to get back to the ship. We need to leave as soon as possible. And tell them to watch out for soldiers.”

“Consider it done” Rho says. I feel a slight buzzing in the base of my skull when she activates my radio.

“We may end up fighting our way out of here” I tell Wash as we sprint down the street.

“Yeah, I kind of had the same feeling” he admits, pointing to the gun on his back.

“Try to avoid shooting if you can help it” I say. “And avoid lethal shots. We’re already wanted for enough murders as it is.” Wash nods his acknowledgement.

Suddenly, I hear a buzzing noise behind us and turn to see what it is. A pack of flying, insect like beings swarms around Wash and I. They grab at my arms and legs but I punch and kick them away. I’ve read about this tactic before. The Yanme’e love to lift their victims into the air where they can’t fight back before killing them. They fly away from me and I think that this was too easy before I see a group of them carrying Wash away.

I shout his name and run toward him. He continues to struggle against the aliens until they get so high that he knows the fall will kill him. I have to do something. I remember the speed unit I picked up earlier, still clutched in my hand and almost completely forgotten. I put the chip in my armor’s helmet. “Rho.”

“I’m on it” she says before I have a chance to give her any instruction. Within moments I feel a shift in my metabolism and my legs begin to move faster. The feeling isn’t new to me. I’ve trained with a speed unit once before. Still, that doesn’t make the feeling any less disorienting. If it weren’t for Rho accessing my HUD and showing me what to do and where to place my feet, I would have stumbled and crashed multiple times already.

I catch up to the drones but they’re still high above me. Rho directs me to climb to the roof of one of the buildings, showing me where to place my hands as I move faster than my mind can think. If I didn’t trust Rho, if I wasn’t willing to follow her instructions with blind faith, this would never work. Once on the roof I continue to chase after Wash. I jump the gap between buildings and barely land on my feet. Even with Rho’s help, I know I won’t be able to keep this up for long.

Once I’m nearly underneath the swarm I pull out my pistol. I know I have to be careful. I don’t want to hit Wash and I don’t want to kill any of the drones. I halt my pursuit for a second, aim, and fire. One of the aliens holding Wash screams and releases him as the bullet tears through its arm. The extra weight is too much for the other drones to handle and they begin to sink in the air for a moment before dropping their captive.

I run forward, the speed unit kicking into overdrive. I tackle Wash as I leap between two buildings, causing him to roll to a stop on the roof rather than falling to the ground below. I sit for a second and allow myself to just breathe. Rho quietly deactivates the speed unit as I lay sprawled on the rooftop.

I blink slowly. By the time my eyes open Wash is standing over me and reaching out a hand to help me up. “Thanks” he says as he hauls me to my feet.

I nod, not quite trusting my voice yet. My limbs feel jittery and I think I might throw up. As the hunger sets in, I remember that these are all normal after effects of the speed unit. I do my best to ignore these feelings. There’s no time to wait for them to pass.

“Come on” I say, words slurring together slightly. I walk to the edge of the roof and start looking for a way down. I begin to feel dizzy partway to the ground but push past it. It’s not like this is anything new to me. I drop the last ten feet to the ground, bending my knees to absorb the impact. Wash does the same.

The Yanme’e circle back to attack again. One of them tries to grab me and I snap its leg off. The alien flies away screaming.

“What happened to non-lethal attacks?” Washington asks as the swarm backs off.

“Its leg will grow back in a few days” I explain, ducking into another alley.

Wash and I sprint through the side roads and alleys of the town, trying to lose the swarm as we head to the ship. I glance up and behind me. The swarm appears to be keeping its distance for now, tracking us rather than attacking. I certainly have no problem with them holding back. It’s not like they can track us off planet.

We reach the edge of town and do our best to stay under the cover of the trees on the way to the clearing. I see the pelican up ahead. Tinu’s armor shines brightly in the sun near the back. I don’t see Nick and assume he’s already waiting in the cockpit. At least, I assume this until sniper shots begin firing from one of the trees. The swarm scatters to avoid the bullets and Nick drops to the ground next to us.

“You never could figure out how to stay out of trouble” Nick remarks, slinging the sniper rifle onto his back and running alongside me.

“Hit any of them?” I ask, glancing back at the once again reforming swarm.

“Nothing but warning shots” Nick assures.

I laugh at this. “Your idea of a warning shot is anything that isn’t fatal.”

“It’s a good warning” he says defensively as we step into the ship. Nick sprints to the front and starts the engines as Tinu closes the door.

“Anything following us?” I ask once we’re in the air.

Nick takes a moment to check the ship’s radar. “Nope” he finally answers. “No tracers on the ship, either. We’re clear.”

“Good”, I nod before pulling my helmet off. I’m still shaky from using the speed unit and my armor’s starting to feel stuffy. My stomach growls loudly, reminding me that I didn’t eat all of my breakfast. “Rho, remind me to never again use a speed unit” I whisper, pulling the chip out of my helmet.

Wash looks at me. “Is that how all your easy missions go?” he asks sarcastically.

“Yeah, pretty much!” Nick calls from the front of the ship.

“But, hey,” I say cheerily, “there’s no better way to get to know someone than by getting shot at together.” Wash doesn’t answer, but I suspect he’s smiling under the helmet.


	21. Repair

Simmons enters the room hesitantly. He was told that this was where he could find the mechanic. Glancing around at the piles of burnt out parts and cluttered tables, he wonders how he’ll ever find someone in all this mess. It could definitely use the help of one of his many organizational schemes.

_“Finally”_ a voice mutters by his feet. Simmons glances down to see Lopez rolling toward him. _“I thought that door would never open.”_ Lopez rolls through the door and disappears down the hall.

“Don’t let him go!” a woman shouts, running from behind a pile of scrap metal and chasing after the robot head. She stops in the doorway and shouts down the hall. “Get back here. I need those wheels!”

There’s a shout from down the hall and Yttri turns and stalks back into the room with a scowl on her face. “Great. Little robot bastard runs off with my wheels just because I said I needed them for another project. He knows I’m going to make him a body once I get the parts, but no, that’s not good enough” she grumbles as she starts inspecting an engine on one of the tables.

“Um” Simmons starts nervously.

Yttri whips her head around to face him, curly hair drifting into her eyes as she does so. “What do you want?” she asks angrily.

“I- I was told you could help me with my arm” Simmons answers uncertainly.

Yttri pushes the stray hair out of her eyes before responding. “Rhodium’s the doctor here, not me. Down that hall, eighth left, then fifth right” she says and then turns her attention back to the engine.

“Actually, I don’t need a doctor. See, it’s robotic” Simmons lifts up the arm in question as he starts to explain.

Before Simmons has a chance to say any more, Yttri strides over to him and grabs his arm. Her mood seems to have improved considerably with the prospect of repairing something. She rolls up the sleeve and begins studying the limb closely, then lifts it to her ear and listens. “The elbow keeps locking up?” she guesses.

“Yeah” Simmons says. “And the shoulder’s been making weird noises.” He rolls his shoulder to emphasize, causing a grinding sound.

Yttri winces at the noise. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do, though it’s a pretty crude design.” She points to a table which, aside from a few papers, is relatively clear. “Sit down over there” she instructs.

Yttri drags over a box of tools, scanners, and miscellaneous parts while Simmons sits. She then removes the outer plate of metal from Simmons’ arm to reveal the wires and gears beneath. “This is a mess” she mutters, pushing some of the wires around. “Who even designed this? It’s disgusting!”

“Sarge, my team’s leader” Simmons says.

Yttri continues her commentary as though he hadn’t spoken. “I could see someone using this a hundred years ago, maybe, but now? Even the cheapest, most basic prosthetics use carbon fibers instead of wires and only non corrosive metals. Why would you let someone put this on your body?”

“It’s not like I had a choice” Simmons mumbled.

Yttri finishes her inspection of the arm and steps back. “I can fix it” she says at length, “but I hate the thought of leaving a machine like that attached to you.” She starts sorting through tools as she speaks. “I could make you a new one” she offers. “It’d have to wait until I get the supplies, but it’d be better than this piece of crap.” She gestures toward Simmons’ mechanical arm.

“I don’t want to cause any trouble” Simmons starts.

Yttri holds up her hand to silence him. “As a mechanic I cannot, in good conscience, let you walk around with that thing any longer than necessary” she says. She turns back to him with a screwdriver in hand and starts removing and rearranging different parts within the elbow joint. “Besides, it’d be a nice side project. I’ve always wanted to break out into more complex robotics, but there’s never any time around here what with all the repairs for the ship and everything.”

After a few more moments of awkward silence, Simmons eventually nods. “Sure. That sounds great” he says. Honestly, he would prefer to have an arm that wasn’t cobbled together with whatever was left over from Sarge building Lopez. He just felt weird asking for it.

A few minutes later Yttri finishes with Simmons’ elbow and starts working on his shoulder. “What happened?” she asks.

“Hmm?” Simmons responds, dragging his thoughts back to the present.

“Well, something like this usually has a story attached” Yttri explains, tapping her knuckles against the prosthetic for emphasis. “So what’s yours?”

Simmons explains briefly about how Grif got run over by the tank back in Blood Gulch all those years ago. Sarge had decided that the only way to save Grif was to give him Simmons arm and organs and turn Simmons into a cyborge.

“That doesn’t make any sense” Yttri says when he finishes the story. She fastens the metal coverings back over Simmons’ arm as she speaks. “If Grif was injured, why didn’t your leader just turn him into a cyborge?”

“You’ve clearly never spoken to Sarge” is Simmons’ only answer.

Yttri shakes her head at the thought of such insanity. “Someone like that should not be allowed around machines” she decides. “It’s just cruel.”

“Thanks” Simmons says as he rolls down his sleeve. He goes to stand but Yttri stops him with a hand on his chest.

“Hold on” she says, eyebrows knitting together in concentration. “Something’s not right…” Suddenly she leans down and places her ear next to her hand, hovering an inch away from Simmons’ chest. “Something sounds wrong” she confirms. She straightens up and looks Simmons in the eyes, ignoring the slight blush on his cheeks. “Are your lungs synthetic?” she asks.

Simmons nods. “Almost all of my organs are,” he confirms, “especially on the left side.”

Yttri glances away from him for a second, thinking. Then she looks back with determined eyes. “Shirt off and lay down” she commands, hands once again delving into her tool box.

“W-what?” Simmons asks nervously.

Yttri rolls her eyes. “Artificial organs need regular repairs and maintenance, just like your arm. Am I correct in assuming that they’ve received the same level of care in the past that your arm has?” Simmons nods sheepishly. “Then I need to check if they’re still functioning properly. If any of them shut down, you could die within minutes.”

Simmons blush fades at those words. He hadn’t realized it was that serious. He pulls off his shirt, still slightly embarrassed, and lays down on the cold worktable. Yttri walks over with an arm full of tools, some of which Simmons doesn’t recognize, and lays them out next to the soldier.

The left side of Simmons chest has been replaced with a plate of metal. Yttrium removes this, exposing wires and filters to the open air. She’s surprised by the appearance of the most easily visible of the artificial organs. They’re much more advanced than Simmons’ arm had lead her to expect, though still woefully archaic compared to modern technology. She wonders briefly if the sergeant had made the arm look that way on purpose in order to fulfill some mental image of what a cyborge should look like.

Yttri quickly takes stock of which of Simmons’ organs need repairs, being careful to not touch any of his organic parts. Once she finishes, she pauses for a moment, running through her mental inventory. “Most of these filters need replacing” she reports after a moment. “How long has it been since the surgery?”

“Um, about five years,” Simmons answers.

Yttri does her best to hold back a comment about his stupidity before responding. “These filters are designed to be replaced every six months. They serve the same functions as your lungs, kidneys, and liver. Letting them expire like this is the same as letting those organs fail” she explains. “It’s a miracle you’re still alive right now.”

Yttri orders Simmons to stay where he is before turning around and disappearing behind a pile of broken ship pieces. “Of course, the reason the lungs lasted this long is probably because of your armor” she continues to speak as she searches. “How often do you wear it?”

“Almost all the time” Simmons answers.

“The Mjolnir armor has a built in air filtration system, which would have meant there’s less for your lungs to filter. As for why the kidneys and liver are still functioning… I’m gonna say that was dumb luck.” There’s a crashing sound as something falls, followed by Yttri’s triumphant shout. “Ha! Found it!” She reemerges from behind the pile holding something in a sealed plastic bag. “Luckily for you, the filters you need aren’t very different from what’s used for the armor, so we have spares. Just remember that these weren’t originally meant to filter as much as your organs will, so they’ll wear out sooner.” She opens the bag of filters and begins replacing the ones in Simmons. Once she’s done she reattaches the metal plate on his chest.

“That’s about all I can do for now” Yttri says, a slight hint of regret in her voice. If she had the supplies, she knew she could make him into the most badass cyborge ever. As it is, she’s just happy she can keep him alive. “Let me know if anything else breaks.”

“Thanks” Simmons says, sitting up and hopping off the table. He flexes his arm experimentally, then takes a deep breath. Though he’d never noticed a problem before, he definitely notices the improvement now. He begins to pull on his shirt as the door opens.

Nick steps into the room and glances between Yttri and Simmons for a moment. “Interrupting something?” he asks, a teasing grin spreading across his face. Simmons finishes putting on his shirt quickly, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

Yttri ignores Nickel’s teasing and turns to him with folded arms and a scowl. “Why didn’t you tell me one of our new guests was a cyborge?” Simmons slips out of the room past Nickel as she speaks.

“I didn’t think you’d care?” Nick ventures uncertainly. “Normally you don’t like people.”

“Cyborges are different” Yttri says. “They’re like people, but with just enough machine to make me not hate them.”

“Aw, come on, you know you don’t _really_ hate people” Nick says. Yttri’s face is nearly blank, with a trace of _‘you wanna bet?’_ in it.

“Why are you here?” she asks after holding his stare for a few seconds.

“We got some of the stuff from your list. Iodine said to leave it in the hangar for now, since most of it is going to be used to fix the hornet, but you should probably go see it” Nick answers.

Yttri moves toward the door, then stops, part of what Nick said standing out in her mind. “What do you mean ‘some of the stuff’?”

“Oh, yeah, about that” Nick starts evasively.

“What happened?” Yttri asks, irritation lancing through the words.

“We ran into some trouble. Well, actually, Silver ran into some trouble. We had to leave fast and Tinu and I couldn’t get everything on the list. But we got most of it.”

“Did you get the parts I need to make a body for that robot?” Yttri asks as she folds her arms.

“No” Nick says slowly.

“Did you get something I can use to make armor for my toes?”

“Why do you need armor for your toes?” Nick asks.

Yttri continues on her way out the door. “A cranky Spanish robot keeps trying to run them over.”

Nick catches up with her quickly as they walk down the hall. “All we have are the parts you need to fix the hornet. I guess the robot will have to wait.”

“It’s just as well” Yttri says. “He’s an annoying little bot. I’d hate to do him any favors.”

Nick jogs ahead for a moment, then turns to face her, walking backward. “Wait, you gladly helped a person, but you’re mad at a robot?” Nick places the back of his hand on her forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

Yttri smacks his hand away, glaring. “I told you, people are fine as long as they don’t mess with my work, cyborges are different, and robots can be just as irritating as people sometimes.”


	22. Just Another Day

“Get ready to eject.” I feel the gradual withdrawal from my mind as Rho transfers her programming to the unit at the base of my skull. Once she confirms that everything is accounted for, I remove the chip. I plug her into the receptacle in the table, and a moment later her hologram appears.

“I’ll get started sorting through the information Spore gave us,” Rho says before flickering out of view.

I nod before turning and leaving the room. I know hanging around and waiting for her is useless. She gets nervous if someone watches her work like this. She’ll be busy with this for at least the next couple of hours, though most likely she won’t be done until morning. I guess I have the rest of the day to myself.

My stomach growls embarrassingly loudly, and I glance around quickly to make sure no one heard it. Luckily, this section of the base is pretty much abandoned. I remember my meager breakfast, as well as my use of the speed unit earlier. Food begins to sound like a wonderful idea and I start to wander in the direction of the mess hall.

* * *

 

Grif stares at the beautiful, rectangular object on the table before him. Light glints off the blue wrapper like a beacon of hope. Grif reaches out tentatively. His fingertips brush gently against the wrapper, producing a delicious crinkling noise. He draws his hand back, not wanting to rush things. He has to be deliberate about this, he knows. It’s not every day that he gets an opportunity like this. He wants to make sure everything is perfect.

“Are you still staring at that?” Simmons asks as he sits next to Grif. “You’ve been here since I left to get my arm fixed.”

“I need to prepare for this, Simmons” Grif explains reverently. “I need to savor the moment.”

“Grif, they’re just Oreos” Simmons says, exasperated.

“These are not ‘just Oreos’” Grif counters. “They are the pinnacle of human achievement. They’re also brand new, unopened, and they haven’t gone stale from sitting in the back of some storage room.”

“They’re also deathly poisonous” a small voice pipes up from behind them. Grif and Simmons turn to see Silicon eyeing the box of cookies suspiciously. “At least, they are to Sangheli.”

“Really?” the two Sim-Troopers ask in unison.

“No.” The boy’s face literally splits in half with a grin and he steps up to the table. He reaches around Grif, quickly opens the package and snatches three cookies.

“Hey!” Grif shouts in protest and tries to swipe the Oreos out of Lico’s hand. The boy dances out of his reach while popping a cookie into his mouth. “Those are mine.”

“No they’re not” Lico mumbles amidst a spray of crumbs. He swallows quickly before continuing. “They’re everyone’s. That’s the rule here.”

“In that case…” Simmons says as he too grabs a cookie.

“Hey!” Grif shouts again. He looks at his teammate like he’s been betrayed. “You don’t even like them” he accuses.

“Yes I do” Simmons corrects him. “I’m just not obsessed like you are.”

Grif continues to stare at Simmons in shock for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak, but Lico beats him to it.

“You’d better hurry if you want to eat any of those” Silicon tells Grif.

Grif covers the package with his arms protectively. “Are you going to steal some more?”

“No” Lico shakes his head. “But some of the people here have a really good sense of smell. They’ll know that box is open, and they will swarm like sharks.” Grif looks like he thinks the kid is exaggerating. Lico raises his hands innocently. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

At that moment, as though to make his point, Franc and Rubi run into the room. They each grab a small stack of the cookies before running back out, Rubi dragging Silicon along with her. “I told you!” he shouts as he disappears around the corner.

Grif quickly shoves an Oreo in his mouth, barely taking a moment to chew it before swallowing. He then devours a second just as quickly.

“What happened to savoring the moment?” Simmons asks in disgust.

Someone Grif doesn’t recognize walks by and grabs a few Oreos without even glancing at the Sim-Troopers. “That was before I knew about all the _vultures,_ ” Grif says, managing to sound venomous with his mouth still full.

* * *

 

I step into the mess hall and see the two Sim-Troopers sitting at a table. Lico, Franc, and Rubi run out through another door, Lico shouting something as he leaves. I stare at the two soldiers for a moment, trying to remember their names. It’s difficult, since they’re not wearing their armor. Project Freelancer’s files didn’t have pictures of the soldiers they recruited, just names, armor color, and some basic background information. I do recognize one of their faces, though, since he’d removed his helmet during yesterday’s fight with Gold. _So the tan one’s Grif_ , I think, cementing the name to the face in my mind. _Which means the redhead must be his teammate, Simmons._

I wave to them as I walk by, on my way to the kitchen. A smell stops me in my tracks before I reach it. It’s the deep, rich smell of chocolate, and my stomach growls in response. I glance back at the soldiers and see a box of Oreos sitting in front of them. For a moment I consider grabbing some of them, my mouth watering at the thought. However, I deliberately turn my head away and continue toward the kitchen. I know that with my empty stomach, as well as the residual effects of the speed unit, eating anything that sugary is a bad idea.

I find some cold eggs left over from breakfast and nearly inhale the food in my haste. I do the same to some left over pancakes and the last piece of fruit. Once I’m done I try to convince myself it’s enough, but my mind keeps drifting back to Grif’s Oreos. _I suppose one or two wouldn’t hurt_ , I think eventually.

I walk past the table quickly, reaching down and grabbing two cookies without looking. Grif shoots me a hateful glare while Simmons looks like he’s trying not to laugh. I wave at them as I leave, ignoring the muttered curses from the Hawaiian.

* * *

 

I make my way to the Box, hoping to get a chance at some training while I have the time. When I get there, however, Tinu and Nick have already started. It’s not surprising. Tinu’s probably bummed out that she didn’t get to do any fighting during our mission, so she’ll be blowing off steam. Nick, of course, is never too far behind his partner, nor would he miss the opportunity to further sharpen his skills. I climb up to the catwalk and see that Wash is already there.

“You know,” I say as I walk up next to him, “this used to be my spot. It was the one place where I could sit and think and be alone for a few minutes. Now it’s like there’s standing room only. Everyone seems to be spending their time up here.”

“Sorry” Wash says, eyes still fixed on the training floor.

“I was joking” I point out, but he doesn’t seem to hear me. I follow his eyes down to the floor where Tinu is training. Nearly a dozen practice bots are on the ground around her as she faces off against the last one.

Tinu lunges forward and bites into the bot’s arm, hard plastic shattering and stabbing into her gums as her teeth break through armor. She grabs its shoulder, wrapping her hand around a metal coil to secure her grip. The robot struggles to break free for a moment, but it’s no use. Once Tinu knows she has it immobilized she begins to shake her head fiercely. With a groaning of stressed metal and a tearing of wires, the robot’s arm tears away from its body.

I look at Washington again. He looks slightly pale. “Don’t worry” I assure him. “She only does that to robots, not people.”

“Still,” Wash says, “I think I want to stay on her good side.”

Our attention snaps back to the floor at the sound of a gunshot.

Nick is practicing at the opposite end of the room, shooting down holographic targets with his sniper rifle. He pauses for a moment, hitting the release to drop an empty clip and snapping a new one into the gun. Three humanoid holograms surround him while he’s reloading. Nick smiles. The first opponent charges toward him and he sends a high impact round between its eyes. The second attacker gets a little closer before receiving a round in its throat. Nick kicks the third in the chest to knock it back before firing, using his boot print as a bull’s-eye.

The next wave forms in front of him; eight this time. He takes out the first few with three quick shots before the gun is once again empty. Nick has no time to reload before the others are on him. He turns the rifle around in his grip so he’s holding it by the barrel and swings it like a bat, knocking down four of the holograms. He knocks the fifth’s legs out from under it with a sweep of his leg. He then brings the butt of the rifle down on its face, causing it to disintegrate.

In a moment the other four are back on their feet. Nick drops the gun and raises fists to meet them. The first hologram lunges at him. He sidesteps to avoid the attack then slams his fist into the side of its head. The hologram stumbles for a moment before disappearing. The final three opponents charge at once. Nick dodges and weaves between them, expertly ducking under swinging arms. He drives his elbow into the back of one’s neck as he comes to stand behind them. The hologram falls forward and disappears.

Nick turns and kicks one of the last two, knocking it into the other. They both fall to the ground for the second time. Nick finishes one off with a powerful kick to its head, then ends the last by stomping on its chest.

“Training session complete” a voice announces to the room as the last hologram disappears. “Seven point six percent increase in efficiency. Well done.”

“Okay, that was impressive” Wash says after a moment of silence.

“He’s pretty tough for an old guy” I confirm.

Wash shakes his head for a moment and looks at me. “How can you joke like that? You told me about his aging. How can you treat it so casually?”

I look down at Nick, who’s still smiling after his fight. “Because he told me to” I answer. Wash looks surprised, so I explain. “He doesn’t want people to treat him differently or to pity him because of this. We all know what’s happening and we also know that we can’t stop it. He just wants to enjoy his life and try to be normal with the time he has. So, I do my best to make that happen. I make jokes so the rest of the family will think it’s not a big deal. I wish there was something more I could do for him, but…” I sigh. “I just want him to be happy while he’s still here.”

After the training session ends, the doors to the training room open. Wash and I turn our attention back to the floor to see what the commotion is. Yttri storms in with a scowl on her face, glaring between Tinu and the destroyed robots at her feet. “You broke them again” she says, voice icy and dangerously quiet. “Do you have any idea how long it takes me to fix those?!” she shouts while running toward Tinu.

“Sorry sorry sorry sorry!” Tinu squeals, fleeing before her sister’s wrath. Nick edges toward the door, hoping to stay out of this fight.

Wash grins, noticing the smile hidden behind Yttri’s scowl. “I take it this happens a lot?” he asks.

I laugh. “I would definitely call this a common occurrence.”


	23. A New Lead

“Silver?” The computerized female voice cuts through the void, dragging my mind back to consciousness. “Silver, wake up.”

I jolt upright in bed, holding a knife and glancing around quickly. “Whoa, calm down” Rho says. I look to the only source of light in the room and see her avatar projected onto my bedside table. “Sorry to wake you,” she continues, “but I thought you’d want to hear this as soon as possible.”

“It’s fine” I say, nightmare already fading from memory as I put the knife back under my pillow. “What’d you find?”

“I think I may know where Agent Carolina is.”

These words cause me to awaken fully. I sit up straighter and stare at her expectantly. “Well?”

“Have you ever heard of Malevolent Depths?” she asks.

The name sounds familiar and I try to place where I’ve heard it. “It’s a city, right?”

“And a ship” Rho nods. “The Covenant began building it toward the end of the war, to replace their flagship city, High Charity. When the war ended construction was put on hold until a private company bought the ship. They finished building the ship and renamed it. Since construction finished it’s become a trading hub, as well as a hot spot for smugglers.”

“So, it’s pretty much the perfect place for Carolina to hunt for Freelancer tech” I guess.

“Exactly” Rho confirms. “A few of the more well-known dealers there have already gone out of business, and there have been reports of a mysterious woman in Spartan armor, though the color is unconfirmed.”

I remember from Carolina’s file that she had been given a very basic version of the camouflage unit, which would change her armor’s color. “That sounds like who we’re looking for” I decide. “When was she last seen there?”

“A few days ago” Rho answers. “She might already be gone, but-“

“But it’s the closest we’ve gotten yet” I finish for her. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and try to rub some of the sleep from my eyes. “It’s a good lead. We should check it out.”

“You don’t need to go right now” Rho says, waving her hands as I stand. “You still need rest. Your shoulder-“

“Is fine” I say. I swing my arm around to emphasize. “See? All better.”

“You could still wait until morning,” Rho persists.

“The longer we wait, the lower our chances get of finding Carolina and Epsilon” I argue. “We leave now.”

“At least tell Nick before you go” she requests half-heartedly as I stand and start dressing.

“I’ll pass by his and Tinu’s room on my way to pick you up. I’ll tell him then.”

* * *

 

Nick leans against the doorframe, looking like he’d only just dozed off when I woke him. He runs a hand through his hair and hides a yawn before speaking. “I’ll wake Tinu. We’ll suit up and meet you in the hangar.”

“No” I say. “I’m doing this one alone.”

“No offense, Si, but that’s really fucking stupid” Nick says. “You are literally planning to walk onto a giant Covenant ship, by yourself, in order to look for someone who’s first reaction to seeing you will most likely be to shoot you.”

“It’s not a military vessel” I explain. “This is a civilian ship, a city.”

“That doesn’t mean there won’t be soldiers there,” he counters. “You might need backup.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You always say that!” Nick snaps. “When will you learn that we’re all just as willing to fight for you as you are for us? We’re in this together, Si.”

My eyes harden as I look at him. I don’t want to have this discussion again. “This is my decision, my orders. I’m going alone and that’s final.”

He open his mouth to argue, but is stopped by a whimper behind him. Nick turns to see Tinu thrashing on her bed and mumbling in her sleep. He steps further into the room and kneels next to the bed, reaching out to take her hand.

“Nightmares?” I ask even though I already know the answer. A lot of us have had trouble dealing with what we’ve been through and what we’ve done. Tinu’s nightmares have always been particularly bad, which is why Nick’s never bothered to get his own room. He prefers to stay close so he can help her.

“Yeah,” Nick whispers. His eyes are fixed on Tinu’s face and he gently brushes some hair off her forehead as he speaks. Tinu continues to thrash, pulling her hand away and clawing at the sheets. “I can’t wake her up, not when it’s this bad. I’ve tried before but it just makes the dream worse. All I can do is sit and wait for it to be over.”

“You can comfort her when she wakes up” I offer, knowing how useless it sounds. “Let her know it’s not real.”

“Except that it is real,” Nick says, shaking his head softly. “When your nightmares are memories, it’s hard to find any comfort.” There’s an edge of bitterness in his voice that I haven’t heard before. It fades away as he looks back at Tinu. “Still, I try my best. It helps her just to have someone here.”

I stand there for a few moments longer, wishing there was something I could do to make this better but knowing that I can’t. Eventually I turn and continue on my way, leaving Nick and Tinu alone.

“Be careful” Nick says without turning around.

“I will” I promise.

“Don’t get killed.” I can hear Nick straining to add the joking tone to his voice.

“Don’t worry” I respond, trying to use the same tone. “I won’t.”

* * *

 

“You really should bring someone with you” Rho suggests once I retrieve her. I turn down a corridor and follow the directions to the hangar that Rho shows on my HUD.

“I am,” I say, smiling under my helmet. “I’m bringing you.”

“That’s not the same and you know it” she admonishes. “There is very little I can do to help you if something goes wrong.”

“So, I’ll just make sure nothing goes wrong.” I offer up the solution as though it’s obvious.

“This is serious, Silver” Rho says sternly. “We only have the one ship. If you get hurt or captured, no one will be able to come help you. You’ll be stranded.”

“Which is no different from any other mission” I point out. We get to the hangar and I begin inspecting the pelican for any new damage received during our last mission. It all looks fine, so I move around to

the back.

“It’s completely different!” Rho practically shrieks. “You’re going to a giant Covenant city. The people there will think you’re a terrorist. They’ll want to kill you.”

I walk into the ship and sit in the cockpit, checking fuel levels. “They won’t know who I am.”

“They might” Rho argues. “Spore knew who you were. The Covenant told him. For all you know, everyone on that ship could be able to recognize you.”

“Which is exactly why I can’t let anyone come with me,” I say softly. I stop prepping the ship and turn my full attention toward Rho. “This mission is too dangerous. There are too many unknown variables. I can’t risk anyone else going.”

“What about someone the Covenant won’t recognize?” Rho asks, still trying to persuade me. “What about Agent Washington?”

“No” I say forcefully.

“But you worked well together on your last mission” Rho says. “I thought you trusted him.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust him…” I say slowly before going silent.

“Then what is it?” Rho asks, voice equal parts curious and caring.

I’m quiet for a while, not knowing how to explain. “It’s me” I finally say. “Everyone who’s ever worked with me, every partner I’ve had, they’ve all gotten hurt somehow. Manny’s gone, Gold is still under mom’s control, and Neon is dead.”

“None of that was your fault” Rho interrupts.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s my fault or not” I say sharply. “All that matters is that it happened.” I take a deep breath and force my voice to stay even. “I can’t let that happen again. I won’t get anyone else killed.” I turn my attention back to the controls.

Rho is silent for a while, but I can tell she’s unhappy. “This is stupid and reckless” she finally mutters.

“Of course it is.” I flip a switch and the engines roar to life. “It’s one of our plans.” I enter the coordinates as we lift off the ground, setting a course for Malevolent Depths.


	24. Pursuit

Nick decides to sleep in a bit the next morning. Between worrying about Silver and taking care of Tinu, it had taken him forever to get back to sleep. Even then, he hadn’t slept very well. So when his alarm went off telling him it was time to get up, he kindly told it to shut up with a slap of his hand. It’s not like there was anything important he needed to be awake for anyway. With the pelican gone, he wouldn’t be going anywhere. Also, although he wouldn’t admit it to anybody, his aging had been catching up with him lately and the extra sleep was beginning to feel necessary. All in all, it added up to him not leaving his room until a few hours later than normal.

When Nick does finally wake, he’s greeted with a very excited Ruth waiting outside his door.

“Nick!” she says excitedly, nearly bouncing in place. “I know it’s early but this is really important and I just have to tell you.”

_Forget sleep_ , he thinks, noting the enthusiastic smile on the girl’s face. _I could probably just absorb the extra energy from around her if we talk long enough._ “What’s up?”

She stops bouncing for a moment, voice becoming so serious it’s almost comical. “I found it.”

“What?” Nick asks, confused. Then he remembers what the communications expert has been working on lately, and his eyes widen. “Wait, you found it? Really?”

Ruth nods. “The signal mom’s been using to communicate with the control chips. It was disguised as slipspace interference, but I finally isolated it.”

“That’s great!” Nick says, smiling as genuinely as he can manage. He’s still worried about Silver, but this is some of the best news they’ve had in a while. “Can you track it?”

“Better” Ruth says, managing to smile even wider than before. “I can communicate with it. I think, if we wanted, I could tell Gold what to do, the same way mom does.”

“Have you tried?”

“Not yet” Ruth answers. “If I do, mom will figure out what we’re doing eventually. She might even be able to track it back to us. I didn’t want to risk that until we know what we want to do with this.”

Nick nods in agreement. Despite her exuberant nature, Ruth has always been very practical, so it doesn’t surprise him that she’s being cautious. He stares at the wall for a moment, thinking out loud as the tactical part of his brain gets to work. “We could set up a rescue mission; tell Gold to go somewhere so we can finally catch him. We’d have to find a good location and pick the right people for the mission…”

He stops, looking back at Ruth. The young girl’s eyes are expectant as she waits to hear how they’ll use her discovery. “This is a real step forward for us, Ruth,” he assures her, squeezing her shoulder encouragingly. “I’m proud of you.”

She smiles and hugs him quickly. “I’m gonna go tell Iodine” she says before running off.

Nick watches her leave, then sighs. Of course, this is good news. Ruth’s discovery could be useful. _If Silver lets us use it_ , he thinks wearily. He’s worried that her over-cautiousness will stand in the way of any plan he makes. It annoys him that she’s so dangerously reckless in regards to herself, but painstakingly careful when it comes to the rest of the family. It’s hindered their progress more than once in the past. He knows she has her reasons but he still wishes she’d at least trust him a bit more.

Nick turns and walks down the hall with a new determination. He knows they can save Gold if they work together. They just need a plan. Maybe, if he already has a plan all set before he tells Silver, then maybe he can convince her. Already, an idea is starting to form in his mind for how they can set this up. He just needs to work out a few details. And for that, he needs to talk to someone with a bit more experience.

* * *

 

“Alright, Rho, status update,” I command. “How would you say we’re doing so far?”

Rho flashes a warning light in the corner of my HUD and I dodge just in time to avoid a blast of plasma. “Considering that we’re dodging bullets, I’d say we’re doing poorly.”

I spin and fire my pistol, taking down a security officer with a shot to the leg. “Oh, don’t be like that. We completed the objective, didn’t we?”

“Yes, you planted bugs in every black market store we could find. That’s a great comfort against burning plasma” Rho says sarcastically.

“It’s not that bad,” I say, flipping over a railing to land on the floor below. I look up to see three more Sangheli officers nearly trip over the edge in their haste to stop. “Plasma flies at half the speed of a metal bullet, so it’s not that hard to dodge.”

I sprint down a small alley and try to lose myself in the crowd on the other side, which is no small feat considering my surroundings. Malevolent Depths has followed the conventional Covenant aesthetic of dark purples and pinks, a drastic contrast to my green armor. Add to that the fact that I’m one of very few humans here, and it’s easy to see why I’d stand out. Still, I don’t think I’d have it any other way. Fighting against the odds like this just makes me feel alive. It’s an effect that’s added to by the fact that I’m alone. I sometimes forget how much fun this can be when I’m not busy worrying about my family.

“Did we manage to download that map?” I ask quietly, trying to look as inconspicuous as someone in thousand pound armor can.

“I’ve got is right here” Rho says, flashing the ship’s blueprints across my visor.

“Good. Get me a path back to the pelican. I don’t want to try our luck staying here any longer than necessary.”

Rho highlights a path on my HUD which I begin to follow. “We have luck?” she asks skeptically.

“I haven’t gotten us shot yet today, so we must have some” I point out.

I can practically feel Rho rolling her eyes at this. “I consider it unlucky to get shot at _at all_ ” she grumbles.

“E.T.A.?” I ask after weaving through the crowds for a few more minutes. Rho wasn’t kidding when she said this place is a trading hub. There’re people everywhere.

“At your current pace, it will take you about fifteen minutes to get there,” Rho reports. “I suggest speeding up.”

I shake my head. “Moving too fast will draw suspicion. I have to follow the speed of the crowd if I want to blend in.”

Rho highlights the faces of some of the people we pass, noting the suspicion in their eyes as they stare. “They’re watching you” she says. “It’s only a matter of time until security notices. I’d be ready to run, if I were you.”

As if on cue a voice shouts behind me. I turn and see more armed security officers running toward me. “You know, you really could try to not be right _all_ the time” I say as I start running.

I sprint down side streets and through stores, following an ever-changing path as Rho calculates new and more efficient routes to the ship. As I turn onto another road, Rho highlights a motorcycle-like vehicle stopped in the street, its driver waiting for his turn at an intersection. Without hesitating I run over and pull the alien off the bike as gently as possible, not wanting to hurt him, before hopping on and speeding away. “It’s no mongoose,” I remark as the thing reaches its top speed and I begin to notice the poor quality steering of the vehicle, “but it’ll do.”

The alien vehicle is very different from the human military vehicles I’ve practiced with in the past. The turns are much wider, which I realize when I round a corner and nearly slam into a building across the street. Overall, however, the ride is smoother since this vehicle doesn’t touch the ground. For a half second I wonder what kind of weapons it could have, before remembering it’s still a civilian vehicle.

I quickly lose sight of the security officers. Sangheli may be fast, but they can’t keep up with a moving vehicle. Unfortunately, this advantage soon fades as more security officers arrive in their own vehicles.

I swerve to the side as they try to run me off the road. “Rho, find me a way out of here.”

“I’m trying” she says, and I can feel the buzz at the base of my neck as she thinks with all the speed of a super computer.

“Try harder,” I instruct as I barely manage to keep the vehicle upright while turning a corner. A few plasma blasts fly past me. “Those guys have both guns and absolutely no problem using them.”

A moment later a new trail is highlighted in my vision; a trail which leads over the edge of a bridge. “I think you made a mistake” I say.

“It’s the only way to lose them” Rho explains. “Don’t worry. I think this vehicle can make the jump.”

“You ‘think’? Are you sure?”

“I have a ninety-eight point six percent certainty that we’ll make it” she clarifies.

“That really doesn’t seem good enough” I say, but I steer toward the bridge anyway. I try to force as much speed into the vehicle as possible as we near the edge. “Hold on.”


	25. Too Close

Simmons paces outside the door. _You can do this_ , he tells himself. _You know a little about machines and you’re good with computers. Just offer to help her with her work. No big deal._ He hears a door open and freezes, but it’s just someone down the hall. He fights the urge to run back to the mess hall where Grif and Sarge are. _You can do this,_ he thinks again. _You can do this…_

He stops pacing, remembering the curly-haired woman he’d met the day before. He remembers brown eyes and a no-nonsense attitude and that moment when she’d been standing _very_ close to him while listening to his lungs. But above all, he remembers that she’d cared. She’d cared that he was broken and she’d cared that if he didn’t get fixed he could die. For reasons Simmons is too nervous to think about, he wants to see her again.

Despite the pep talk he’s giving himself, the thought of talking to her still makes his stomach flip. _I can’t do it_ , he decides miserably. Simmons turns and begins walking down the hall away from Yttri’s workroom. He hears a door open and close behind him but ignores it, trying to get away as quickly as possible.

“Hey, cyborge” the familiar voice calls behind him and he freezes again.

Simmons turns to face the mechanic, glad that he has his armor on so his helmet can hide the blush on his face. “Oh, uh, hi, Yttri, I mean Yttrium. Um, how’s it going?”

“I’m about to start working on the Hornet” Yttri says, ignoring his stammering.

“Oh, um, that’s cool” Simmons says. _This is your perfect chance,_ he screams in his head. _Ask her if you can help!_

“Of course, it’s gonna take forever” Yttrium continues unhappily. “Normally Iodine would help me, but he’s training right now.” She studies Simmons for a moment. “You any good with machines?” she finally asks.

“I’m alright” Simmons answers, “but I’m really better with computers.”

“You could work on the targeting systems while I fix the engines” Yttri says thoughtfully. “I mean, if you want to” she amends. “Normally I wouldn’t ask, but I really need the extra hands.”

“Of course” Simmons says quickly before she has a chance to take the offer back. “I’d love to help!” He starts to panic, worrying that he’s sounding too over-eager and he should have tried to play it cool, when Yttri interrupts his thoughts.

“Cool. Follow me” she says, walking past him.

Simmons breathes a sigh of relief. _That went better than I could have hoped._

* * *

Nickel enters the mess hall. He sees the Sim-Troopers all gathered around one table, except the maroon one who apparently left breakfast early. The rest seem to be enjoying themselves. Sarge is holding Grif back while Tucker tells some story that seems to involve Grif’s sister. Donut is telling Caboose to stop poking at the bandage on his hand and trying to explain to him for the thousandth time why petting the cats here is a bad idea. Doc is babbling on about the nutritional value of their meals, although no one seems to be listening. Nick marvels at how quickly they’ve settled back into what appears to be a routine for them. Then, he turns his attention toward the former Freelancer also at their table.

Washington, once again wearing his armor, is sitting slightly off to the side, keeping himself separate from the rest of the group. Nick wonders if this is because he feels like he’s not one of the group or if the situation just reminds him too much of his time in Project Freelancer. Or maybe joining in with the group would show how much he trusts them, and he can’t accept that after being betrayed so many times. _Or, you know, maybe he’s just not a morning person_ , a slightly less dramatic part of his brain interjects.

Nick pushes these musings to the side as he sits next to the ex-Freelancer. “We need to talk” he says when Wash turns to look at him.

* * *

 

I flare the alien bike’s engines as we near the ground, softening the landing to a point where I can hold on. After a few shaky moments in which I struggle to keep the vehicle from flipping, we shoot forward.

“Told you we’d make it” Rho says smugly.

I give her the mental equivalent of a middle finger. I’m not particularly afraid of heights, but I still want to avoid the splat at the end of a fall. “Let’s not do that again soon” I mutter through clenched teeth.

Rho updates my HUD with a new path to the pelican. As I follow the glowing trail, I begin to notice a change in our surroundings. Where before we were surrounded by stores, and then homes, we now appear to be speeding past warehouses.

“According to the map, the city’s broken up into districts” Rho answers the unspoken question. “We started running in the trading district, then we passed through the residential areas, and now we’re in the industrial district.” She pauses for a moment before adding “this district is also where the majority of the city’s criminal activities takes place.”

“Does that mean there’s less security here?”

“I believe local organized crime pays them to stay away,” Rho answers.

“Which is why you led me here” I say, shaking my head in amusement. “You never fail to impress, Rho.”

“I try” she says, sounding pleased.

“But don’t get cocky” I admonish jokingly. I zip around a corner, having finally gotten the hang of steering this thing. “We’re not home yet.”

“Really? _Now_ you’re trying to be cautious?”

“I guess getting shot at helped me get my head on straight” I say.

“Are you regretting not bringing backup?” Rho asks.

“Nope” I say brightly. “Backup would have slowed me down back there. Having you for a tactician is all I need.”

“I think you would do better using a bit of common sense” Rho grumbles.

I smile at her annoyance. “I’m gonna assume our little escape back there threw us off course a little” I guess. “How much longer will this route take to get us to the ship?”

Rho considers this for a moment. “Somewhere between five and ten minutes” she finally says uncertainly.

“You’re normally more precise than that” I say.

“You downloaded a tourist’s map,” Rho points out. “It’s not exactly detailed in this particular area of town.”

“Don’t tourists like visiting the criminal underbelly of a city?” I quip.

“No, Si, that’s just you” Rho sighs.

We fall silent as the alien bike buzzes through the maze of warehouses. As we pass more and more buildings that all look identical, I become very thankful that Rho is here with me. With no sun or major landmarks to follow, I know I’d have been lost long ago without her navigating.

Eventually, the trail stops moving forward and begins to shoot straight up a wall. I hop off the bike and stare up at the glowing green line. “So, where exactly is the hangar where we left the pelican?”

“About twelve feet in front of you,” Rho says, “and seventeen levels up.”

I glance at the bike. “I don’t suppose that thing can fly” I say hopelessly.

“Not by my calculations” Rho confirms.

“Great.” I step up to the wall and start climbing. “Grif was right, climbing does suck” I grumble three levels up.

“But you like heights” Rho reminds me.

“Yeah, but this is really time consuming. Also, it’s not exactly the least conspicuous thing we’ve done today.” I lean back slightly, trying to see the end of Rho’s trail. “I should have brought a jetpack.”

“That would have been convenient” Rho agrees.

In all honesty, though, Rho is right. I do like heights. Problems make more sense when viewed from above. Depths, however, are a different matter. It bugs me that I’m technically below my destination. Approaching from this angle will make it impossible to see the hangar before I’m already there. This seems like a wonderful setup for an ambush.

“What do you think the odds are that there are guards waiting up there for us?” I ask.

“I think it’s highly likely” Rho answers.

I’m only one level below the hangar now. I glance down and for a moment feel a wave of dizziness. “Not now” I whisper, clenching my eyes shut and holding onto the wall tighter than ever.

“What’s wrong?” Rho asks.

“Nothing” I lie as my vision once again clears.

“Are you still having dizzy spells?” she asks. “You told me that stopped.”

“Just from time to time” I say dismissively.

“You know that’s a bad sign” she reprimands. “You should have told Rhodium.”

“He already knows.” I feel Rho prepare to speak again and cut her off before she can. “Look, there’s nothing we can do about it and it’s already passed anyway, so let’s just get this over with.”

Rho stays silent, though I can tell she’s not happy. I reach for another one of Yttrium’s devices on my belt.

“Another flash-bug?” Rho asks.

“Mhmm” I hum as I turn the device on and set it on the wall. It manages to walk up the vertical surface without difficulty and climbs into the hangar. “They’re pretty good for getting out of situations like this.” A few moments later I hear the explosion from the small machine, followed by silence. I climb the last few feet and flip up over the edge into the hangar. At this same moment I realize the inconsistency. Flashbangs are usually followed by a lot of shouting from whoever they hit…

“It didn’t work” Rho says at the same moment I realize my mistake. Standing before me are over a dozen Sangheli soldiers in zealot armor, each surrounded by the faint glow of an energy shield. The same type of shields which, I know from past experience, flashbangs don’t work against. A force field appears behind me, blocking off any escape back down the wall.

The alien soldiers point their guns toward me and I lift my hands slowly. I open my mouth, whether to make a witty remark or try to make up some excuse for the soldiers, I’m not sure. It doesn’t matter, though. One of the soldiers steps forward before I have a chance to speak and punches me so hard in my face that I fall backward. I think that if it weren’t for my helmet I’d probably have a broken nose now.

The Sangheli leans over me and I kick up into his chest, knocking him back. I jump to my feet and pull my gun, but it’s immediately knocked out of my hand. I’m surrounded and I know I’m in trouble. I punch and kick every direction but the blows aren’t strong enough to take the aliens down. Something hits me in the back of the head and I stumble forward. A plasma blast slams into my back and I fall, feeling a slight burn through my armor.

“Silver!” Rho says urgently. “Get up! We have to get out of here!”

“I’m trying” I grunt, pushing against the ground in a futile attempt to stand. The soldiers hold me down as I struggle.

One of them growls something and although my alien languages are a little rusty I make out the words “sister” and “payback” amidst the sentence. _Great_ , I think sarcastically. _So not only do they know I’m more than just a random criminal, but now it’s personal_. The thoughts stop when my head gets pulled back slightly, then slammed back into the floor. My vision goes spotty and I fight a wave of nausea and dizziness.

“Silver” Rho pleads again. Her voice sounds strained and for a moment it sounds like there’s two of her talking. The blow must have affected her as well. “Please, you have to get up.”

“I can’t” I mumble. The dizziness isn’t going away this time and it’s all I can do to remain conscious. I can feel the aliens kicking and hitting me, but the sensations are oddly distant, like they’re happening to someone else. “Sorry” I whisper, knowing I’m defeated and knowing that she’s trapped here with me; that she can’t escape while she’s in my head.

Suddenly, there’s a new pain in my head. A sharp, familiar spike of pain spreads from the base of my skull through the rest of my brain. At the same moment that I recognize the feeling and realize what Rho’s doing, I hear a shout from across the room.

“Silver!” Rho’s voice calls out. The soldiers and I turn our heads at the same time and see a glowing, armor clad figure standing in the back of the pelican. The figure is holding a large plasma cannon with both hands and begins to fire as the aliens stare.

The soldiers release me as they dive for cover. I stumble to my feet and run to the ship, head still spinning. Plasma bolts fly past me and into the back of the ship, but manage to miss me. I run straight through the holo-projection standing in the pelican and sprint up to the cockpit, hitting the button to close the door as I pass. The aliens roar angrily when they realize the ruse they’ve fallen for. The sound is quickly cut off by the roar of the ship’s engines. I forego normal safe take-off procedures and hit the throttle for all it’s worth, flying away from the larger Covenant ship at top speed.

Once we’re out of sight of the Covenant ship I pull my helmet off. My vision’s still a little blurry and I feel like I’ve been run over, but I’m alive. At this point, that alone is a miracle.

Rho’s avatar appears atop the ship’s controls. I look down at her and chuckle slightly. “What was that you were saying earlier about being stupid and reckless?” She cocks her head to the side as though she doesn’t understand. “You know you’re not supposed to mess with your avatar like that. It strains your holo-projectors and is dangerous for you.”

“It got us out of there” she points out.

“Yeah, it did” I agree. “Thanks.”

“Of course, it wouldn’t have been necessary if you hadn’t made us go alone in the first place” Rho points out.

I nod slightly.

“No more solo missions” Rho says, half scolding and half pleading. “Please. This was too close.”

I hum a neutral tone, not really paying attention as I sink down in the chair.

“Are you okay?” Rho asks, the words sounding strangely muted to my ears. “Silver, wake up!” she snaps more loudly.

My eyes snap open and I breathe in sharply. “I’m up, I’m fine” I say quickly.

“No, you’re not” she says, eyeing me critically. After a moment she sighs. “Plug me into the ship. I’ll fly us home while you get some rest.”

I feel her thoughts pull away from mine. Once she gives me the ok, I remove her chip from my head and plug it into the control panel. “Don’t forget to double check that no one is following us” I say through a yawn.

“I know.”

“And be careful with the thrusters on the right side. I think they took some damage during the escape.”

“I know” Rho says again. “I’ve got this. Now get some rest. You need it.” I begin to doze off, barely catching her final words. “Now more than ever.”


	26. Homecoming

Simmons glances up at the hornet. From where he’s standing, he can just barely see the tips of Yttri’s toes sticking over the edge of the ship. The mechanic is lying on her stomach on top of the ship while she works on one of the rotors.

Her feet disappear and, after a moment, they’re replaced by a hand. “Crowbar” Yttri grunts.

Simmons retrieves the desired tool from the box at his feet and offers it up to the waving hand.

“Thanks, cyborge” Yttri’s voice drifts down from above.

Simmons smiles at the small praise, a slight blush spreading across his face, before getting back to work on the computer. Just like with the pelican, there’s an access panel on the side of the hornet so he doesn’t have to climb in and out to get different tools while he’s working. It also means that he can still watch Yttrium while she works, and pass her things when she needs them. Of course, he’ll never admit that he’s been stopping to look up at the mechanic more often than necessary, or how ridiculously happy he feels every time she thanks him for something. If Grif found out, he’d never live it down.

“How’s it going down there?” Yttri asks after a few more minutes of silent work.

“I can’t see anything wrong with the targeting systems from here” Simmons answers, once again staring at the screen. He’s figured out by now that the only way he can talk to her without tripping over his words is to not look at her and think about something else. Luckily, working on the computer provides the perfect distraction. “It must be a hardware issue.”

There’s a drawn out, exasperated groan from the top of the ship. “That means we probably need a whole new processing system” Yttri gripes. There’s a thump and a yelp, and then the crowbar falls through the rotor and lands by Simmons’ feet. “Ah, fuck!”

“A-are you okay?” Simmons asks hesitantly.

“Slipped and jammed my thumb,” Yttri grumbles. There are a few moments of angry silence before she shouts again. “Damn it!” There’s another thump and somehow Simmons knows that she’s smacked the ship. “This thing’ll never be fixed.”

“We’ll figure it out” Simmons tries to reassure her. “We just, uh, need the right tools.”

“We’ll never have the right tools” Yttri explains wearily. Simmons looks up and sees her face through the rotor of the plane. “That’s something you’ll have to get used to around here. We always have about a quarter of the supplies we need.”

Simmons blushes and looks away, once again glad his helmet is covering his face. “That’s no different than Blood Gulch,” he mutters, trying to cover up his nervousness.

Yttri laughs at that. “Well, good. At least you already know how to find creative solutions to these types of problems.” There’s a pause before she says “pass me up that crowbar again.”

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Simmons is back in the mess hall. After a few hours of working on the ship wit Yttri, she had finally kicked him out. She’d grown increasingly frustrated with the lack of progress on the repairs and had eventually claimed that she’d had enough human interaction for one day and he could come back later after she’d had time to think. According to Tinu, who had watched the scene unfold, this was normal behavior for the mechanic. She’d assured Simmons that Yttri would calm down soon. In the mean time, Simmons decides to find the rest of his team.

Which is why he’s in the mess hall now. Grif never seems to leave this room. When there’s food, he eats, and when there isn’t he can sit and talk and not do anything. To Grif, that’s pretty close to heaven.

Simmons finds Grif sitting at a table across from Tucker. He sits next to the orange soldier and grabs a piece of fruit from the bowl in the center of the table.

“Where have you been?” Grif asks. “After breakfast you disappeared and I couldn’t find you.”

“I was with the mechanic” Simmons answers.

Grif stares at him for a moment. “Are you okay?”

“What do you mean?” Simmons asks.

“You went to get your arm fixed yesterday, and now you visited the mechanic again today” Grif explains. “You’re not, like, breaking, are you?”

“No” Simmons says slowly.

Tucker has been listening to the conversation with interest and chooses this point to start laughing.

“What’s your problem?” Grif asks.

“Oh, nothing” Tucker says with a giant grin on his face. “It’s just that I’ve seen this mechanic he’s talking about, and I know exactly why he keeps visiting her.” Simmons blushes while Grif shoots Tucker a questioning look. “Let’s just say, I don’t think his arm is the only thing she’s been working on.” Tucker grins even wider. “Bow chicka bow wow!”

Grif turns and raises his eyebrows at Simmons. “Really?”

“I-it’s not like that” Simmons says quickly. “I’ve just been helping her fix the ship.”

“Oh, suuure” Tucker says, drawing out the word. “That’s _all_ you’ve been doing.” He shoots Simmons a conspiratorial wink.

Simmons blushes even deeper than before and Grif starts laughing. “What?” Simmons asks irritably.

Grif takes a moment to catch his breath before answering. “I can’t believe that a nerd like you managed to find a girl before either of us” he wheezes.

Tucker’s grin fades as he considers this. “Oh, fuck! I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“I guess we’re the pathetic ones now” Grif continues.

“I told you, it’s not like that” Simmons insists. “We’re just working together.”

“Seriously, dude, the more you deny it, the less I’ll believe it” Tucker says.

Simmons falls silent and takes a bite of the fruit. He then glances toward the other end of the long table and notices Wash and Nick. The two soldiers seem to be absorbed in their own world, hunching over a holo-pad as they speak.

“What are they talking about?” Simmons asks.

“I don’t know,” Tucker answers. “They’ve been like that since breakfast.”

“Sarge was over there earlier” Grif adds. “He was telling them about the layout of red base back on that planet we crashed on. It all sounded boring, so I decided to ignore them.”

“Why would they care about those bases?” Simmons wonders aloud. “They were just temporary shelters for while we were stranded. They don’t matter anymore.”

“Dude, if I knew that then I’d be over there having a boring conversation with them” Tucker says.

“But instead, you’re over here having a useless conversation with us” Grif points out. “Hope you feel good about those life choices.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Nickel stands suddenly, sliding his chair back and nearly knocking it over in his haste. He stays still for a moment, head cocked to the side. “Okay, I’ll meet you there” he says eventually.

“What’s wrong?” Wash asks.

“Rho just radioed me. She said Silver’s hurt and they’ll be landing in the hangar in a minute.” Without another word he sprints out of the mess hall. Wash wastes no time running after him.

“Should we follow them?” Tucker asks.

“Probably,” Grif says, looking for all the world like he doesn’t plan on moving.

“Come on.” Simmons grabs the Hawaiian’s arm and starts dragging him toward the door.

“Dude, you used to be a lot more fun before you got a girlfriend,” Grif teases as he tries to free his arm from the cyborge’s grip.

 

* * *

 

I wake up to Nick’s face a few inches from mine. “Holy shit!” I gasp, jumping back slightly. He leans back as I take a deep breath. “Don’t do that,” I reprimand.

Nick continues to study my face, eyeing the numerous bruises. “I’m guessing you either didn’t find Carolina and Epsilon, or you did and it went poorly,” he eventually says.

My brain wakes up sluggishly, and it’s a long moment before I’m able to process Nick’s words. “The first” I finally decide.

“That’s disappointing” he says.

I shrug. “I didn’t expect them to be there waiting for us,” I say. “We planted some bugs, asked around. If Carolina shows up there again, we’ll hear about it.”

“If you asked about her, someone will talk. She’ll know someone’s looking for her.”

“That’s the idea,” I smile. “She managed to hide from the UNSC and the Director for years, convinced everyone she was dead. If she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be.”

“But if she knows someone is looking for her, she might get curious,” Nick finishes my thought.

“Exactly,” I nod. “If we’re lucky, they’ll come to us. Or at least go somewhere they know we can find them.”

“That’s kind of a long shot,” Nick says skeptically.

“But it’s a chance,” I say.

Nick stands up and holds out a hand to help me out of the pilot’s seat. “Rho said you were hurt,” he says, still studying my face. “I didn’t realize it was this bad.”

“I’m fine.”

“Is that your new catch phrase or something?” Nick asks humorlessly.

“Nerd” I mutter. I try to stand on my own but the ground feels like it’s shifting and I end up leaning on Nick.

He wraps an arm around my shoulders to hold me up and looks at my eyes for a second. “I’m no doctor,” he starts, “but I know a concussion when I see one. You need to go see Rhodium.”

I try to protest, but another wave of nausea hits and I decide it’s a better idea to keep my mouth shut. Maybe Nick and Rho are right. I should see Rhodi. I nod my head, which is a mistake. The sudden motion sends new bolts of pain through my skull.

Nick props me up with his shoulder and helps me out of the pelican. Wash and the Sim-troopers are waiting in the hangar, along with Boron, Yttri, and Lico.

“Is she okay?” Silicon asks.

“She will be” Nick says. “She has a concussion. We need to get her to Rhodi.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Wash asks, stepping toward us. I’m surprised by the level of concern in his voice.

“Rho’s still in the ship” I say, not wanting the AI to be forgotten. “And one of the thrusters took some damage.”

“I’ll handle the ship” Yttri says, stepping forward. “You can get the AI.” She points to Wash as she finishes.

Wash looks slightly nervous at this suggestion. Boron notices his discomfort and smiles. “Afraid of a computer program?” he asks, too quiet for anyone but Nick, Wash, and I to hear. Wash turns his face toward the younger man, and I assume that he’s glaring under his helmet.

“Just take her to the conference room,” Nick instructs, voice even as he tries to diffuse the situation. “That’s usually where she stays when Si doesn’t need her for a mission.”

Wash nods and starts walking toward the ship. Boron steps in his way at the last second, causing Wash to bump him with his shoulder. Wash’s head jerks toward the dark haired man. Boron just smiles again and backs away.

Yttri watches the encounter before rolling her eyes. She steps up to the ship and starts inspecting a plasma burn on the hull. After a moment, Simmons joins her, and Tucker nudges Grif with his elbow.

“See, we’ve got it all taken care of” Nick says as we walk out of the hangar. “Just take it easy.”

Nick and I turn down a hall toward the infirmary. “I don’t need to take it easy” I mutter once we’re out of earshot of the others.

“You know, there’s nothing wrong with slowing down from time to time” Nick says.

“I can’t slow down” I try to explain. “Time isn’t on our side, Nick. We have to move fast.”

“I know” Nick says, and I can’t help but think his voice sounds a little sad. I glance up at his face. The grey hair looks so wrong above such young eyes. “Time’s never been very kind to either of us. But you have to be more careful. We don’t want to lose you.”

“And I can’t lose any of you” I say. “Not again. I know I won’t be able to handle it.”

Nick shakes his head slightly. “You’re not the only one who’s scared, Si.” Suddenly, the arm around my shoulder feels less like physical support and more like a hug. “And you’re not the only one who’s lost people either. Neon wasn’t just part of your team, she was also our sister. I know I didn’t know her as well as you did, but it still hurt when she was gone. And Gold was my leader just as much as he was yours. And, I know Manny was your first partner and nothing really compares to that. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Tinu. But you weren’t the only one who missed him when he left. You’re not the only one who wished he’d find his way home to us.”

I lean into the embrace. “I know” I whisper. I shut my eyes for a moment, hoping to chase away those memories. For me, it’s not just the people we’ve lost since mom left. It’s the dozens who never came back from the initial attacks, whose names I didn’t know until I was checking them off of a list; all those brothers and sisters who I never got to know before they were gone. The ones I knew sting the most, but all of them combined are crushing.

“I know you miss them too” I start again, once I’ve regained some composure. “But you and I both know why I have to be the one to do this.”

Nick’s arm tightens its hold on me. “You’re not expendable” Nick nearly snarls. “I don’t care what you think. You’re not.”

“No,” I agree, “but it’s like you said, time isn’t kind to us. I don’t have as much to lose out there as you guys do.” I look up and realize we’re standing at the infirmary door. “If he tries to give me a shot, I will fight back” I say sullenly.

Nick smiles, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Then I guess I’ll have to stay and help him.”


	27. Goodbye

Nick stares through the small window into the infirmary, watching Rhodium and the medic examine Silver. She looks so small without her armor, and paler than he remembered. The harsh lights of the infirmary make her injuries stand out even more. Nick hates this part; the waiting. He needs to know she’ll be okay _now_. He’d tried to stay with her, but Rhodium felt it’d be best if he waited outside. Nick wishes he didn’t know how smart the kid really was. It would make it easier for him to think that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“She looks pretty beat up,” Wash remarks, startling Nick.

Although Nick doesn’t show any outward signs, internally he jumps. How can someone in armor like that move so quietly?

“Rho asked me to check on her,” Wash continues. “She seemed really worried.”

Nick nods. “Rho tends to switch from snarky sarcasm to motherly concern without much warning,” he remarks.

Wash wants to make a comment on this, ask if an AI like that can really be safe, but decides against it. Rho got Silver home in one piece. At this point, they probably trust her more than they trust Wash and his team. He just hopes nothing bad will come of it.

“So, how is she?” Wash asks again.

“Some cracked ribs, a pretty bad concussion, light plasma burn on her back, although it looks like her armor absorbed most of it, and a lot of bruises,” Nick lists off the injuries with mechanical precision.

“Nothing she shouldn’t recover from fairly quickly,” Wash says, voice uncharacteristically optimistic.

“Yeah,” Nick says, not sounding at all certain.

“I mean, if she’s half as tough as Maine was, then this is nothing. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Nick sighs. “If she were half as tough as Manny, then I’m sure you’d be right,” he says tiredly. He looks back at the window. Doc is trying to give Silver some pills, which she appears to be refusing. “But she’s not. Silver isn’t as tough or as strong as she u-… as she thinks she is. She’s so stubborn and she won’t listen. She’s going to get herself killed.”

Wash doesn’t respond. He feels like he wasn’t really meant to hear that. Nickel’s venting is a little too personal and it makes Wash feel like he’s eavesdropping somehow, even though Nick is talking to him. He’s not used to people being this open. The other Freelancers never really spoke about themselves, at least not with him. Although, he had been the rookie on the team, so maybe they just left him out of the important conversations. The reds and blues never really spoke like this either. However, between Caboose not understanding anything, Tucker trying to pull his ladies’ man routine despite there being no ladies around, and Sarge not wanting the reds to talk to ‘a no good dirty blue’, it wasn’t very surprising that conversation options had been limited.

Still, this isn’t something he’s used to, and he’s not sure how to respond. Eventually, after a few more moments of awkward silence, Nick speaks up again.

“Why are you here?” He says it so softly, so tiredly, that for a moment Wash isn’t sure how to respond.

“We agreed to help you,” Wash says, voice deadpan. “We want to prevent another war as much as you do.”

“I don’t mean your team.” Nick turns his back on the window to look directly at the armored soldier. “And I don’t mean just helping us in general. I want to know why you, specifically, are here, and why you seem to care so much about my sister.” As he speaks, his eyes narrow in suspicion and he folds his arms across his chest.

For the first time, Wash notices how strong Nick looks. It’s a slim type of muscle, like what you’d expect from a sniper, but strong nonetheless. He also notes the gun on Nick’s hip, a sure sign that he still doesn’t fully trust his new allies. Added to this is the disconcerting appearance of a man both young and old all at once; grey hair falling into young, bright eyes, skin unmarred by scars or wrinkles but lacking any sort of youthful color. It’s almost frightening and Wash involuntarily takes a step back.

“You know I was partnered with Maine during Project Freelancer,” he starts to explain. “I’m sure you know what he was like. He hardly ever talked unless it was to communicate during training and missions. But the few times he did, it was always about Silver. He said she was stubborn and headstrong and never gave up, and that she was the most important thing in the universe to him.

“I couldn’t help Maine. I couldn’t stop Sigma, and I couldn’t stop the project from failing, and in the end I- he left us no choice but to kill him. For a long time, all I wanted was a second chance; some way to fix what had happened and make things right. I know I’ll never get that chance for everything else, but maybe I can with Maine. Silver’s the one person he cared about. I feel like maybe, if I can help her, it’ll make it up to him somehow.”

Nickel’s expression doesn’t change as he listens to this speech. When Wash finishes talking, he remains silent for a moment, thinking. “So, you’re repaying a debt,” Nick guesses eventually. Wash nods. Nick sighs, arms unfolding into a more relaxed stance. “You can’t help Silver,” he says, shaking his head. “Not if she won’t let you.”

“I have to try” Wash says. “I owe it to Maine and…” he trails off, glancing toward the infirmary window. A very stern Rhodium is handing Silver a cup of water and two pills, which she grudgingly takes. “I know what she’s going through. Well, part of it, at least.” He turns back to Nick. “You’re right. She’s going to get herself killed if she keeps this up. I have to stop her.”

“How will you do that if she won’t listen?” Nick asks. He wants to tell Wash that it’s futile. Silver’s problem is so beyond what he knows. Still, some part of him thinks that maybe Wash can actually do it. He doesn’t know why, but Silver seems to listen to the Freelancer. Maybe he could get through to her where no one else can.

“I don’t know,” Wash says, shaking his head. “But I have to try.”

 

* * *

 

Simmons watches as Yttri balances precariously on a ladder and removes the damaged plates of metal from the side of the pelican, carefully piling them up on the floor. Nearby is another pile of new, un-burnt metal plating which she begins welding onto the ship’s hull. Despite having only known her for a day, Simmons can tell the mechanic is upset. Her eyes are narrowed into a constant glare, she’s haphazardly pulled her hair into a loose bun, and he can see the muscles in her jaw moving as she grinds her teeth, as well as hear her occasional whispered curses.

“What’s wrong?” he asks hesitantly. He hopes speaking up isn’t a mistake. He’s already heard enough warnings about her temper to know that the smart thing would be to leave her alone. Still, he wants to help if there’s any way he can.

Yttri turns off her plasma torch and spins her head around to glare at him for a moment before getting back to work. There’s a long stretch of near silence, interrupted only by the surprisingly quiet hum of the welding tool, and Simmons starts to think she won’t answer. “Silver,” Yttri grunts eventually without bothering to turn around.

_Of course,_ Simmons thinks. _She’s just be worried about her sister._ “I-I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he says.

“Oh, yeah, she’ll be just fine,” Yttri says, sarcasm and bitterness dripping from her voice. “She’ll heal, like she always does. Then, when she’s all better, she’ll go out on some other suicide mission and get herself hurt and her equipment damaged all over again.”

“Does this happen often?” Simons asks.

Yttri stops welding for a moment, a tired sigh escaping her lips. “It didn’t used to,” she says softly. As she continues working, her voice regains its angry tone. “Now, it’s like an everyday occurrence. She keeps getting shot and stabbed and all sorts of stuff. She’s tough, she always comes out okay, but… There’s only so much one person can take.”

The two lapse into silence once again. Simmons awkwardly shifts his feet as he wonders what to do. He doesn’t feel right stepping in to help without Yttri’s permission, but it doesn’t seem right to ask. Besides, she seems content silently working on her own.

“I’m sorry,” Simmons eventually says, wishing there was more he could do.

Yttri lets out a huff of air and wipes a drop of sweat from her forehead. “Don’t be. It’s not your problem,” she says. “Not your fault.”

“Still, I wish there was something I could do to help,” he tells her.

“You really wanna help?” Yttri asks, looking back over her shoulder at him.

“Of course,” Simmons nods.

She smiles at him for a second before pointing to her toolbox. “Hand me that wrench.”

 

* * *

 

I stare at the screen, absentmindedly poking at a bruise on my arm as I watch the action unfold. Two military vehicles barrel down a city highway, cars swerve to avoid them, and shots fire in the scene before my eyes. Two hornets follow alongside the cars, as well as men in jetpacks.

“How are you feeling?” a voice asks behind me. I press a button to freeze the video before turning around to see Agent Washington leaning against the doorframe.

“Like I got hit by a tank,” I say, rubbing the back of my head. “Those Sangheli pack a punch.” For a moment I wonder why I’m admitting this instead of insisting that my injuries are insignificant like I normally would. In the end, I decide it’s just the painkillers. Whatever it was Doc gave me, and Rhodi insisted I take despite my protests, it really does the trick. It certainly cuts down on the pain in my ribs when I breathe. Although, I still don’t think that’s good enough to forgive the lack of concentration that comes with them. “Rhodi said I should be fine, though. Just need some rest.”

“That’s good to hear,” he says a little awkwardly.

I recognize that tone. Nick sounds the same way sometimes. He’s trying to find some way to bring up a subject he’d rather not talk about. I try to think of what it might be, but eventually give up. My brain and I don’t seem to be on the same page right now.

Wash glances around the room for a few seconds, looking anywhere but at me. His eyes eventually settle on the screen over my shoulder. “Are you watching television?” he asks, voice sounding slightly amused.

The question snaps me out of my thoughts and I glance back at the screen. “Not exactly,” I answer.

Wash steps forward to get a better look at the still-paused video. “That’s us,” he gasps when he recognizes the armored figures. “That’s a Project Freelancer mission.”

I nod, turning back to the screen. “I’ve been trying to piece together everything that happened to Manny after he left,” I explain. “Rhodium insisted that I rest for a while, so I figured I’d work on this.”

Wash hums thoughtfully for a second. “So, what’s happening here?” He gestures toward the screen as he asks.

“Agents Carolina, New York, and Maine just blew up a building and are now attempting to recover a briefcase,” I tell him. Wash shifts his feet uncomfortably for a moment. “What?”

“You, uh, might not want to watch the rest of this one,” he says eventually.

I look back at the armored man holding his helmet under his arm. His face looks almost like he’s in pain and I know he’s remembering whatever happened on this mission. “These recordings were recovered from their helmets after the mission. This particular footage was attached to Maine’s medical files.” I turn back toward the screen. “I know he gets hurt here. I need to know what happened.”

“It’s bad,” is all Wash says.

After a moment of silence I press a button and the video continues. Carolina is using a turret on the back of their warthog, shooting at someone on a vehicle ahead of them. The readout on the screen says this footage is from Maine’s helmet, so I know this is what he saw. Suddenly there’s a dot of red on his leader’s back. He turns and sees a sniper riding on the back of a truck behind them and aiming for Carolina. There’s just enough time for Maine to move between Carolina and the sniper before it fires. He starts to shout out a warning but is cut off by a high-caliber round piercing his chest.

“No,” I whisper fiercely, leaning toward the screen. Wash’s hand comes to rest on my shoulder. Some of the tension drains out of me at the touch, and I continue to watch the scene unfold.

Maine slumps over in the back of the jeep and the video switches to Carolina’s perspective for a while. Eventually Maine gets back up and reenters the fight. I smile. Of course Manny wouldn’t let something like that keep him down. The footage is now from York’s perspective as he watches the other two fight. My smile fades as I focus on Maine’s movements. He’s slower and sloppier than I’ve ever seen him, and I know the shot to his chest must have been affecting him.

That’s when it happens.

One of the jetpack wearing soldiers is fighting Maine while the other takes on Carolina. The one fighting Carolina tosses a gun to her partner. He catches the gun out of the air and shoots Maine in the throat. The soldier then slams Maine to the ground and fires again and again, not stopping until Carolina tackles him away. Then, somehow, Maine’s standing again. He shoots a grenade into the side of the vehicle and gets thrown into the street. I see from his perspective as he gets hit by a few cars before getting knocked off the highway.

The video continues for a few seconds, nothing but blue sky and Maine’s ragged breathing as he waits for rescue, until Wash reaches around me to stop it. It’s not until the screen goes dark that I realize I’ve been holding my breath. As I draw in air tears begin to slip from my eyes.

We sit in near silence for a few moments as I try to regain my breath, until Wash speaks. “Silver,” he says quietly.

I blink a few times, trying to clear my eyes. “I- I didn’t…” I stop, trying to regain my composure.

“It’s okay,” Wash says calmly, hand still on my shoulder.

I take a deep breath before trying again. “I didn’t think it would affect me like that. I already knew he survived that mission and I thought that would make it easier.” I say this as though it’s a confession.

“It’s never easy seeing someone you care about get hurt,” Wash agrees.

I stare at the blank screen for a moment before my eyes drop to the floor. “I should have been there for him.”

“You couldn’t.”

“Yes, I could.” I mean to snap at him, but instead my voice comes out quiet and full of remorse. “If I had been better, if I had convinced the Director to take me as well, then maybe I could have helped. Maybe everything would have been different.” I clench my hands in fury. “Instead I was just sitting here, watching mom run her experiments and training for a war that was already over.”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” Wash says. “It’s just as easily my fault, or North’s or Carolina’s, or anyone else who was there. If any of us had done our jobs better, then maybe things would have happened differently. We can’t change what happened.”

“He was my partner,” I say, shaking my head. I can feel my voice cracking as I speak and I wish, above all else, that I could lock this away and not deal with it right now. I want to regain control of myself but I can’t. Stupid fucking medicine. “It was my job to be there for him and I wasn’t.”

“Which is a good thing,” Wash says.

I whip my head around to look at him, ignoring the pain caused by the sudden movement. How could he possibly say that? How could he possibly think that my brother dying while I wasn’t there to help him is a good thing?

Wash grabs the back of my chair and turns me so I’m fully facing him. “If you had been in Project Freelancer, then you wouldn’t have been here when your family needed you.” I look back at my hands, but he kneels in front of me and forces me to look him in the eye. “I know you wish you could change things, but you can’t. You need to give up this guilt, Silver, or it will destroy you.”

“How do you know that?” I ask weakly.

“I’ve seen it before” he says. “I lost my team. They were betrayed, and they tore each other apart and killed each other, and I- I couldn’t do anything to stop it. The whole time it was happening, I was drugged out of my mind in a mental hospital because my AI fell apart.” He pauses for a moment, catching his breath. “I know guilt like that. I know what it feels like, and I know what it can do to you. You have to let it go.”

I shake my head, a sad smile spreading across my lips. “I’m not looking for peace, Wash. I’m not trying to settle this or get past it. I just…” I glance back at the dead screen. “I’m just trying to say goodbye.”

Wash stays there for a few moments longer before rising to his feet, apparently giving up. He’s smart enough to know that I won’t listen to his advice, at least not now.

An awkward silence stretches through the room for a few minutes until Wash speaks up. “Nick wanted to talk to you.”

“What about?” I ask, looking back at him.

“We have a plan.”


	28. Plan

I stop outside the door to the conference room where Wash said Nick is. I take a moment to check my breathing and make sure it’s fully steady, as well as set my face in an expressionless mask. Mom never had any sympathy for our tears growing up, so I learned to hide most negative emotions at an early age. By now it’s no challenge to hide every emotion that passes through me when I want to.

I see Wash out of the corner of my eye. He seems surprised at the sudden change in my demeanor. He shouldn’t be. I know he’s able to do the same. It pays to be able to hide your feelings from an opponent, to never let them see if you’re nervous or afraid. The files I read from Project Freelancer said they drilled this into their agents from day one. Emotions have no place on a battle field, except maybe confidence.

Still, it’s nice to know that I can surprise him, that there are some things I can do that he doesn’t know about. It’s good to know I can still keep secrets.

I push these thoughts aside, half wondering where they came from and half cursing all medication ever invented, before opening the door. Nick is standing next to the table, which is displaying a three dimensional holographic map. Stepping around the edges of this map is Rho. They both turn when they see me step through the door.

“How are you feeling?” Rho and Nick ask simultaneously.

“Alright,” I say. Before they can argue, I continue. “Not one hundred percent, but Rhodi says I’ll heal, so long as I rest and take it easy.” I see a flash of amusement in Nick’s eyes as he recognizes the advice he himself had given me, but he doesn’t comment. “So, what’s going on? Wash said you came up with a plan.”

“They did,” Rho says. “And, I’ve gotta say, I think it’ll work.”

I look at Wash, but he’s standing in the most shadowed corner of the room, leaning against the wall in a way that can only be described as overly dramatic and showing no signs of talking. So, I turn to Nick. “What is this plan?” I ask. I get the feeling my dear brother is enjoying keeping me in the dark like this, and I’m really not in the mood for it.

“I know we’re trying to find Epsilon so he can help us find mom,” Nick starts. “Rho is monitoring the listening devices you set up during your last mission, but until she finds anything, we’re just sitting around waiting. Personally, I’m done waiting. It’s time we do something.

“We know that once we find mom, we’ll still have to deal with Gold. He’ll try to stop us from capturing her. So, I say we deal with him now,” Nick says.

I wonder how many times he’s practiced this little speech in his head, hoping it’ll be convincing enough to make me go along with his plan. He thinks I don’t trust his judgment, or that I don’t value his skill, and that this is why I leave him behind so often. He’s wrong. I know what he’s capable. Nick is a brilliant strategist. I have no doubt that whatever this plan is, it will be both efficient and practical. “How do you plan on doing that?” I ask.

“An ambush,” he says simply. “Ruth found the signal mom’s been using to give Gold his orders. We can use it to send him a message, tell him to go wherever we want, and capture him there. Since his main goal seems to be to kill us, I figured we’d tell him you were going to be there, but then a lot of us will be waiting for him.”

I have to admit, it sounds like a good plan. Simple, straightforward, nothing overly complicated to add problems. Normally Gold is one step ahead of us, like he knows what we’re going to do before we do. With this, we could finally have the element of surprise. Still, I wonder if Nick has really thought this through. If we forget to consider a single variable, or if anything goes wrong…

“Have you chosen a location?” I ask.

“A planet called Chorus,” he says.

I look down at the table, finally recognizing the map shown there. “Where we found the sim-troopers?”

Nick nods. “We know the area around the crash site. Wash has it committed to memory so well that he was able to help me make a 3d map. Plus, the current political climate means we can get in and out without being noticed.”

I try to remember what I’ve heard about Chorus. It’s a small planet, basically in the middle of nowhere. It was considered highly valuable during the war with the Covenant due to the presence of forerunner artifacts. After the war, the UNSC practically abandoned it, along with all its colonies. After that, they started their own government and have pretty much been unheard from ever since.

“There’s a civil war,” Nick explains. “Both sides are too busy fighting each other to notice us messing around on the uninhabited side of the planet. Plus, the UNSC has declared complete neutrality in the war. They don’t want to get involved. The Covenant feels the same way.”

I nod my head slowly as I listen. “So, none of the people we’re running from will notice us there, nor will the local authorities. Good.” I continue staring at the map, not really acknowledging it as I think of everything necessary for this plan. “Have you thought of why I’ll be there? Gold will see through it if I just show up on some random planet for no reason. We don’t have those kinds of resources to waste, and he knows it. We need a good excuse.”

“And we have one,” Nick says. “We’ll tell him you’re there looking for supplies. There are plenty of useful and valuable things in the wreckage of that ship. In fact, I had already marked it for such before ever making this plan. It’ll be more than believable that you’re there looking for spare parts and weapons and whatever else a UNSC super carrier would have had on board.”

I smile proudly, face angled down so they can’t see. It’s clear Nick has thought long and hard about this. “Who else will be going on this mission?” I ask.

“That I’m leaving up to you,” Nick says, “although I have made a few suggestions.” He points to a holo-pad sitting on the edge of the table. I pick it up and start scanning through the list of names, already making a few mental edits.

After a few moments, I look up from the pad. Nick is watching me with expectant, hopeful eyes. I turn to Agent Washington, who’s still standing motionless in the corner. “Any thoughts?”

Wash shrugs. “The plan’s solid. Nick and I discussed it at length. I think it’ll work.”

“That’s it?” I ask. I had hoped for a better analysis than that.

Wash steps toward the table, gesturing toward the map. “The location’s as close to ideal as we’ll get. There are weapon and ammo caches hidden all throughout the canyon, and I’ve marked them on the map. I’ve also marked at least a dozen locations where someone could hide. It’s perfect for an ambush.” He pauses for a moment before adding, “I think you people can handle it.”

Despite the positive words, I feel like he’s leaving something out. “So what’s the problem?”

“There’s only one variable here that I can’t account for,” Wash says, “and that’s Gold.” He glances up from the table to look at me. “Do you think he’ll fall for this?”

I consider this for a moment before answering. “Gold’s smart. He’ll be prepared for anything, even if he doesn’t know we’re coming.” I remember all the times he’s been waiting somewhere for me before I even knew I’d be there. There’s always the chance that Gold will see us coming. But this s the first time we’ve had a guarantee that he’ll be there, and we can use it to our advantage. “Still, this is the best plan we’ve had so far. We stand a chance with this. It’d be stupid not to try.”

Wash nods. “That’s kind of what I was thinking.”

“So, we’ll do it?” Nick asks.

“Yes,” I answer, nodding slowly. “It’ll take a few days to get everything ready, work out a few details, but yes.” I don’t add that it will also be a few days before I’m capable of going on this mission, or that I need the time to heal. I don’t need Nick trying to block me out of this fight.

Nick’s lips thin out as he tries to suppress a proud smile. It’s clear that he’s pleased to finally be allowed to do something he thinks is useful. If I didn’t know him better, I’d think he was about to do a Tinu style squeal.

I gesture to the holo-pad in my hand. “I’ll let you know when I’ve gone over the list of names and made my final decision.” Nick accepts the subtle dismissal and leaves, smile still on his face.

I see Wash heading toward the door as well and stop him. “Wait,” I say. He turns to face me. “I, um, need to ask you about your team,” I say after a moment.

“What about them?”

I glance between him and the holo-pad. “We have a rule here that no one is allowed to go on missions without armor. It’s just too dangerous. But, we only have three suits of armor here.”

“And the basis of this plan is that we outnumber Gold,” Wash says, nodding his head in understanding.

“It’ll take more than three people to subdue him long enough to deactivate his chip,” I say.

“He’s really that strong?” Wash asks.

I nod. “Gold’s not just strong. He’s fast and agile and I’ve never seen anyone except Manny beat him. If this were a normal fight, if we were trying to kill him, then I’m sure we’d win. But that’s not our goal. You fight differently when you try to capture someone.”

“So, you need more people, and they can’t be any of your people,” Wash summarizes.

“The reds and blues said they were willing to help. I’m sure if I ask any of them to go on this mission, they’ll agree. I need to know if they _can_ help,” I explain. “Do you think they can handle a mission like this?”

Wash thinks about it before answering. “I think that, despite how they may act, those guys can handle pretty much anything.”


	29. Late Night Talks

Yttri holds the teal armored wrist in her hand, twisting and turning it around to get a better look at the glowing sword. It isn’t an ideal set up, of course. She’s already made the man holding the sword wince several times by turning his arm too far. Still, it’s the only way for her to study the alien weapon while it’s still active.

“I could spend years studying this thing and still never know all its secrets,” she marvels, scanning the device once again.

“The ladies have always been pretty impressed with my sword,” Tucker says, waggling his eyebrows. He adds a quick “bow chicka bow wow” under his breath so Yttri can’t hear.

Yttri ignores the comment, either oblivious to the innuendo or too focused on her work to care. Simmons, however, hears the comment from where he’s standing behind Yttri and recognizes it for all it’s worth. He glares at the teal clad soldier from over the mechanic’s shoulder. Tucker just grins at him. In his opinion, it’s even more fun to flirt with the mechanic when he knows it also annoys his former-enemy-turned-ally.

“Of course, energy swords themselves aren’t all that impressive,” Yttri continues, unaware of the silent exchange between the two men. “What’s really amazing is the way it’s imprinted to you.” She taps the back of Tucker’s hand with her fingernail, creating a metallic clang against the armored glove. “See, it can’t be a genetic lock, otherwise it wouldn’t work while you’re wearing gloves. It may be able to sense some sort of molecular harmony, or it could be a quantum lock…” she trails off as she thinks through the options.

Yttri spends a few more minutes studying the weapon, trying to look at the handle while it’s still held in Tucker’s grip and scanning it from every angle with various tools, before finally giving up. “I’m not going to figure this out in one day,” she sighs, admitting defeat. She turns away from Tucker and starts typing out her observations in a holo-pad.

The moment Yttrium’s back is turned, Tucker takes the opportunity to let his eyes roam up and down her figure, lingering in a few choice places. After a few moments he notices Simmons still glaring at him. Tucker just smirks and goes back to staring.

Eventually Yttri glances over her shoulder at the teal soldier, who quickly looks down at his feet. “Did you need anything else?” she asks, an unspoken ‘feel free to leave’ present in her tone.

Tucker shakes his head no.

Yttri waves the holo-pad vaguely. “It’s going to take me a while to analyze this, so you might as well get back to whatever you were doing before I dragged you in here,” she suggests.

“Sure,” Tucker says, backing toward the door. “But, hey, let me know if you need my help for anything else. Or, y’know, if you wanna see my sword again.”

Yttri’s only response is to turn back to her work table. Tucker takes one long last look at her before winking at Simmons and leaving.

Yttri waits until she hears the door close before speaking. “That man is extremely annoying.”

“So you _did_ notice.” Simmons had thought she’d been completely oblivious to the other man’s advances the whole time. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Yttri chuckles slightly. “Because, if living with Tinu has taught me one thing, it’s that annoying is best left ignored. If you ignore it, then there’s a chance it will go away and leave you alone, but if you acknowledge it, it’ll just keep being annoying.” There’s a moment of silence as she lets a thought sift through her head. “Although, Tinu’s level of annoying is nothing compared to that guy. At least Tinu isn’t disgusting.”

Simmons’ face heats up with a blush. So she really hadn’t been oblivious to what Tucker said. _If that’s the case, then maybe she isn’t oblivious to my own interest, either_ , Simmons thinks. Yttri glances back and catches his eyes with her own, and Simmons glances away, realizing he’d been staring. He really hopes she doesn’t think he’s creepy or annoying too. He wants to tell her that he isn’t like Tucker. He wants to say that he thinks she’s smart and interesting and he really wants to keep working with her the way he has been. But when he looks at her again, the words die in his throat.

Yttri’s eyes narrow slightly as she watches the fidgeting man. “Are you going to get over here and help me, or not?” she asks impatiently.

Simmons is glad for his armor as he steps closer to the mechanic. It means she can’t see the nervous smile on his face. It looks like, for now, nothing’s changed between them. He’s still not sure if she knows how he feels, but it doesn’t matter. He just hopes it can stay this way for a while longer.

* * *

 

“Silver,” a computerized voice whispers.

I jolt upright in my chair, reaching out to catch the holo-pad before it slides off my knee.

“You dozed off,” Rho states. Her arms are folded across her chest as she paces across the table, studying me.

“Mmf, what time is it?” I ask groggily, setting the holo-pad next to her and rubbing a hand across my face to wake myself up.

“A little after midnight,” she answers.

I take a moment to force some math through my sluggish brain. “That’s… three hours,” I finally conclude. Rho nods her head once in confirmation. “Three hours isn’t dozing off, Rho. That’s, like, a full fledged nap.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘you need some actual sleep’,” Rho counters. “I just didn’t want you to stay in the chair all night. It’s not good for your back.”

I stand and look at the map on the table again. Potentially useful vehicles and weapons are highlighted, as well as good points of cover. I see that Nick’s also spotted out a few good snipers’ nests. I then look at the holo-pad beside Rho. Somehow I managed to finish revising the list before falling asleep. I glance over the names and the tasks they correspond to. A few slots are left blank; I’m still not sure who will be filling those jobs. I have candidates in mind, but I need to talk to them first. Still, I’m happy with my options. I’m just not sure if Nick will approve of some of the changes.

“Where’s Nick?” I ask.

There’s a moment’s hesitation from Rho as she searches through the base’s records and her avatar dims slightly. Then, she answers. “He logged into the training room a few minutes ago.”

“Okay,” I say, stretching out a yawn in the process. “Then that’s where I’m heading next.”

“Oh, no,” Rho says, waving her arms in an unmistakably negative gesture. “No no no. You are going to your room because you need to sleep.”

“No time,” I tell her. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

“That is not even remotely funny,” she says, arms folded and tone highly offended.

“Sorry,” I say, not really meaning it but wanting to end the subject. “Look, I promise I’ll turn in once I’m done. I just need to talk to Nick about something.”

She stares at me, and I know that if she wasn’t programmed to appear in armor her gaze would be critical. “I _want_ to believe you,” she says eventually.

I lift my hands slightly in mock surrender. “I swear, Rho, I will take my medicine, go to bed, and get some rest. I just need to do this first.”

She stares at me for a few more moments before sighing in surrender. “Fine,” she says unhappily.

I roll my eyes at her sullen attitude and step closer to the table. “Ride along?” I offer, hand hovering near Rho’s interface in the table.

“I think I’ll stay here,” Rho says, shaking her head. “Being connected to the base’s computers helps me keep track of the bugs we left back at that city, and I want to go over this plan a few more times.” She looks down at the map where she’s standing as she finishes.

“Alright,” I say, stepping back reluctantly. I look at her for a few moments before asking “are we okay?”

Rho’s face snaps up to meet mine. “Of course,” she says confusedly.

“I know I put you in danger during that last mission,” I start to explain.

“Si, stop,” Rho says, holding up a hand. “You know me. You know that if I’m upset about that mission, it’s not because I was in danger. I’m worried about you.”

“I know,” I sigh.

“You should have told me if you weren’t a hundred percent, Si,” Rho scolds. “The mission was dangerous enough. If I had known that, I would never have let you go.”

“That’s kind of why I didn’t tell you,” I explain.

“You can’t keep doing that,” she says. “If you want to risk your life, then that’s fine. I can’t stop you. Just don’t lie to me about it.” Her voice has turned angry, which catches me of guard. Anger isn’t a trait I normally associate with Rho.

“Sorry,” I whisper weakly.

“Just… just go,” she says, sounding far too tired for an AI of her age. “The sooner you finish talking to Nick, the sooner you can get some rest. Hopefully by morning you’ll have recovered from today’s ordeal.”

I nod, unsure of what I should say. In the end I simply step around the table and leave the room.

* * *

 

I find Nickel in the training room, exactly as Rho said I would. He’s nearing the end of a hand-to-hand combat simulation, so I wait for him to finish. Once the last holographic opponent falls, I stop the program and enter the room.

“Late night work out?” I ask.

Nick turns to face me. He’s sweating, which is odd. The room isn’t overly warm, and he wasn’t using one of the advanced simulations. It shouldn’t have been that difficult for him. I notice for the first time how… worn he looks, like he hasn’t slept in days. It doesn’t fit the mental image I’ve had of my little brother.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Nick asks.

“I could say the same,” I counter. “You look tired.”

He shrugs. “I spent all day sitting around writing up that plan. I wanted to do something physical before going to bed.”

I nod. It makes sense. Nick’s always been concerned with the balance between mind and body; he’s always strived to be both smart and strong, to have full control over himself. Part of me has always wondered if that desire comes from the fact that there are parts of himself that he can’t control, like his aging. I don’t bring this up, though. Neither of us like to talk about it.

I push these thoughts away and choose to focus on what I came here to discuss in the first place. “I finished checking that list,” I tell him.

“And?” he asks.

“Your choices were good,” I say. “The reasoning behind each person makes sense. I really only made one major edit.” Nick waits quietly for me to stop beating around the bush and tell him. “I’m leaving you behind,” I finally say.

I expect him to get angry. This is, after all, his plan. It’s not fair for me to be cutting him out of it. If he is upset, though, he’s not letting it show.

“Why?” Nick asks, face unreadable.

“Your main purpose on this mission would be to act as a sniper,” I explain. “Snipers are great for providing cover, but only if they’re actually willing to shoot.” Both of us know we’re not going to kill Gold.

“I could help in other ways,” Nick offers. “I may not be as good as you or Tinu, but I’m still a good fighter. You might need me to bring down Gold.”

I shake my head. “Tinu, Wash, and I should be enough for that. Besides, I need your armor for something else. Yttri’s going to come with us, and she’ll need protection.”

“Yttri isn’t a fighter,” Nick points out.

“No, she’s not,” I agree. “But she is a genius. We don’t know what kind of modifications mom’s made to Gold’s chip. I might not be able to safely remove it. Yttrium will know how, so I need her there. The armor’s an added precaution. She won’t be a part of the fight, but it should keep her safe if anything goes wrong.”

“Can’t you get armor for her from somewhere else?” Nick asks. “You’re not bringing all the Sim-Troopers. She could borrow one of their suits.”

I shake my head. “Their armor is different from ours. Yttri won’t know how to use it. Besides, those guys have practically lived in their armor for years. They might not be willing to give it up.”

Nick opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to form some sort of argument. After a few moment of silence, he asks, “can Tinu stay?” It’s so soft that I almost miss it.

“I need her with me,” I answer almost apologetically. “She and Carbon are the only people here who are actually stronger than Gold, and you know why I can’t bring Carbon.” I know my younger brother sometimes has problems remembering who he’s supposed to be fighting. Putting him in a situation where both his opponent and his allies are family would be too confusing.

“I don’t like it,” Nick says, shaking his head. “I’m fine being left out of a mission, but I don’t like the thought of Tinu going off somewhere I can’t protect her.”

I understand his fears. I understand that he might not trust me to take care of her, considering my track record. I know this probably isn’t what he’s thinking. He’s never blamed me. Still, I can understand how he wouldn’t think she’d be safe with without him.

“Tinu will be fine,” I try to assure him. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”

“I know you won’t,” he says tiredly. “But sometimes, there are things even you can’t prevent. No matter how hard you try.”


	30. Rules and Orders

I feel Nick’s words in the air, heavy and oppressive with the weight behind them. Despite what I may do, despite all my best intentions, bad things could still happen. Nick knows this and he won’t let this knowledge effect how he lives his life. But he hates knowing that it’s as much a truth for him as it is for his partner.

Eventually the words seem to fade away and we become acutely aware of the silence. It’s not awkward. There can never be an awkward silence between us. We know each other too well for that. Still, silence is silence, and right now I don’t have time for that. So, I decide to break it.

“You said in your notes that you think Yttri will need a bodyguard,” I say.

Nick nods. “If everything goes well, she shouldn’t be in danger at any point, but she should have someone with her who can fight, just in case.”

“You suggested Simmons,” I remind him. “While I understand he isn’t the worst fighter amongst the Sim-Troopers, he isn’t the best either,” I point out. “I was considering Tucker for the job. Why do you think Simmons is better?”

Nick’s lip twitches as he tries to suppress a smile. “That decision is more about who’s more willing to protect Yttri than it is about ability,” he states. “I think Simmons is the better choice in that regard.”

I narrow my eyes at his cryptic answer. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Nick just shakes his head, refusing to give up his secret. “Talk to him yourself. You’ll see.” He pauses for a moment, glancing at the ceiling in thought, before continuing. “Or maybe you won’t. You seem to be pretty blind about that sort of thing.” He looks back at me and sees the annoyed expression on my face. “Trust me, Si. He’s the right choice.”

 

* * *

 

I want to go find Simmons right away, but he and the rest of the Sim-Troopers are already sleeping. I guess that’ll just have to wait until morning. I could go check what supplies we’ll need. I want to run a full inventory on weapons and ammo, specifically checking if any of the stun guns need repairs. I also want to check if Yttri has any new gadgets that could help in the fight. There are a thousand things I need to do and I want to do them all right now. Time is never on our side. It pays to act quickly.

Instead, I remember my promise to Rho and turn down a hall toward my room. Normally I would ignore her requests for me to take better care of myself, but tonight I don’t. What can I say? Guilt is a great motivator. I still feel bad that my earlier recklessness put her in danger. This is the only way I can think of to make up for it.

I still remember when Rho first came to us. It had been just after Manny and Carbon and Zinc left. Half my team was gone, and I still hadn’t been reassigned yet, although Neon had. For the first time in my life, I was all alone. I’d felt lost. I needed something to do, to give me purpose. I found it in the form of an AI.

Rho, when she arrived, was broken. Worse than broken, actually; she was in pieces. Three shattered psyches flailing around within one containment unit, unable to find any sort of balance. Mom had spent weeks trying to fix her, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t like putting a puzzle together. These pieces weren’t meant to fit. They had been separated from the Alpha to preserve both himself and them. He’d never meant for them to be reunited.

Still, despite this, mom managed to get them nearly stable. Rather than being a useless babble of floating information, she made them into the most useless and glitchy computer in the universe. She eventually discovered what the problem was. Rho’s lack of mental harmony meant she didn’t have a stable thought process. It was one part of her that had been destroyed in the Director’s early attempts at harvesting AI fragments. He eventually fixed the problem by using some ancient alien tech, but by then it was too late for Rho. Mom didn’t give up, though. If Rho didn’t have a stable thought process, she’d decided, then we’d build her one.

Mom didn’t have the unnatural level of genius that the Director did when it came to AIs, but she still understood how they worked. She knew that AIs were copied from human minds, which is what allows them to think like people. Mom decided that since Rho had lost this aspect of her programming, the best course of action would be to copy it for her again. That’s where I came in.

I don’t remember much of the process itself. A lot of Rho’s confusion at the time was transferred over to me while we were connected. I do remember her, though, when she got to the point where she could almost think straight. I remember the joy and curiosity and compassion from one part, and the instinct and compulsiveness from another, and the silence that refused to show itself. Eventually, all this resolved into one mind. Rho had spent three days listening to me think; learning how it was done and copying the process for herself. It had felt like weeks.

Mom had always assumed that this was why Rho implanted with me better than anyone else. She and I think the same way. She’s like a part of me, my best friend, and, without doubt, she’s part of the family.

I pull myself out of these memories as I reach my room. The bed’s still unmade and I think briefly that if mom was still around she’d have yelled at me for leaving it like this. I walk to the closet and consider changing, but decide against it. I’m wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt. I don’t really own anything more comfortable than this, and reaching above my head to pull off the shirt will undoubtedly hurt my injured ribs. Instead I walk to the bed.

A bottle of pills sits on the small table by the bed, next to a glass of water. I glare down at the bottle. I reach past it to the alarm clock and take my time resetting it. I know Rho will just have it turned off by morning anyway, but I like pretending I have some control over this. Once the alarm’s set I spin around, seeing if there’s anything else I need to do in here. For a second time I consider changing, but a twinge of pain in my side tells me it’s still a bad idea, even if it would help me stall longer.

I delay a few more seconds before picking up the bottle and dumping two small pink pills into my hand. I swallow them down with the help of the water and sigh. _Good girl,_ I think dismally. _Rhodi would be proud_. I shake my head. It’s not his fault, of course. I shouldn’t blame him. It’s just that this is the part I hate the most. It’s the one moment in my day when I can’t pretend like everything is okay.

I sigh again and climb into bed. Once the blankets are situated comfortably around me, I press a button to turn off the light. Due to the day’s activities, I’m asleep almost before the darkness reaches my eyes.

 

* * *

 

I wake up with tears in my eyes and a smile on my face, wishing I had the ability to not dream for just one night. Between the nightmares and the memories of what life was like before, it’s almost too much. The last thing I need right now, on top of everything else, is a dream about Gold and Manny telling me what they think of my new friends.

I shake off these thoughts and sit up slowly. My ribs are still sore, but I can breathe without pain, which is a vast improvement over yesterday. I glance at the clock. As expected, Rho tampered with it while I was sleeping. I really need to teach her about boundaries some day.

I stand and walk to the small mirror on my wall. The woman looking back at me seems strange yet familiar. I recognize each individual feature, from the green eyes to the white hair; chin, nose, and brow all familiar. However, all together they look like a stranger, subtle differences piling up until I barely recognize myself. Most shocking, at least to my own eyes, are the pale skin and hollow cheeks. It reminds me of a corpse. If Manny was still alive, if he had been with those troopers like I’d hoped he would be, I doubt he would even recognize me.

I push these thoughts away and focus on my injuries. Most of the bruises on my face and arms have already faded, and from the feel of things I assume the same can be said for my legs and torso. There had been a small cut on my forehead, which I couldn’t quite remember receiving but assumed had been cause by my head getting smashed into the floor. Still, it’s gone now, a thin pink scar heralding its former presence. I still feel stiff and sore, but if it came down to it I think I could hold up in a fight now. I couldn’t last night. Score one for advanced regenerative abilities.

As I finish getting ready I go over a mental checklist for the day. Step one, talk to Simmons. Step two, inventory weapons. Step three, convince Yttri to allocate resources to repairing anything necessary for the mission. That last one might be difficult. She can get very caught up in her projects, and sometimes she can’t see why something boring to fix might also be the most important. Still, it shouldn’t be too much trouble. Just as I’ve learned to trust her judgment about what supplier are absolutely necessary, she trusts me when I tell her which repairs take priority.

I open the door and immediately step back, startled. Standing in front of my door is Boron, a look of determination on his face.

“Silver,” he says in place of any sort of greeting.

“Boron,” I respond. For some reason, it wouldn’t feel right to smile and say good morning like I would with anyone else. I would have, a long time ago, but he’s been… different lately. We’ve been at odds so much these past few months. I feel like I need to be on guard around him. “What do you want?” I ask, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“I heard you’re going after Gold,” he says. “I want in.”

“No,” I say immediately.

Boron’s jaw clenches visibly. “He was my partner first,” he snarls. “You can’t cut me out of this.”

“You know that’s not the reason why.” I had hoped we were done talking about this, but it seems I was wrong. I speak as calmly as I can. I can’t let myself get angry. I can’t let him do that to me. “You’re grounded. Remember?”

“Oh, come _on_ , Si,” Boron exclaims, sounding like a petulant child. “It was one guard.”

“Who you _killed_ ,” I point out.

“I was protecting _you_ ,” he says, pointing an accusatory finger at my face. “He was going to attack. He would have-“

“He wouldn’t have done anything,” I interrupt, pushing his hand away. “That guard was carrying a stun baton and we were in full armor. He couldn’t have possibly hurt us.”

“He could have,” Boron insists. He’s been insisting this ever since his last mission. It’s why he’s grounded. If he had admitted he’d made a mistake, I might have given him a second chance. But I can’t risk him going on missions if he doesn’t understand what he did wrong last time. As it stands, that’s one murder we can’t blame on mom’s manipulation, and I don’t know how we’re going to explain it when all this is over.

“You overreacted,” I tell him, “and someone died because of it.”

“I was just trying to help, Si,” Boron says pleadingly.

“It doesn’t matter what you meant to happen,” I say. My voice comes out harsher than I had planned, and I try to soften it. “What matters is what did happen. I can’t let you go on this rescue mission if I can’t trust you to control yourself.”

“I won’t hurt Gold,” Boron says. “He’s my brother, my partner. I won’t hurt him. Please, Si. You’ve got to let me go with you.”

I shake my head. “The order stands. You’re still grounded.”

He folds his arms. “So you’re still trying to give orders,” he says, eyes narrowing. “You’ve said yourself often enough that we’re not soldiers. I don’t have to listen to you.”

I glare back at him. “We’re not soldiers,” I agree. “But I’m still in charge. As long as you are here, you will follow my rules.”

“What rules are those?” he sneers. “Sit around and do nothing while you fail to find mom and get people killed?”

It feels like my blood turns cold at the accusation. I clench my jaw shut to stop a shouted reply. “Rule one is that _we don’t kill_ ,” I grind out through gritted teeth.

Boron and I continue to glare. I know he expects me to say something more. He’s bating me; trying to get me to react. I also know that anything else I say will only give more fuel to this argument. There’s nothing I can say that will end this conflict, so instead I choose to stay silent.

After a few moments, Boron breaks eye contact. He backs up a step and starts walking away. “That’s a stupid rule,” he mutters before sprinting down the hall.


	31. Care and Realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really should just stop trying to name the chapters. I cringe every time I look at the names.

Boron is right about one thing. Rumors do spread fast around here. I can barely walk down the hall without someone asking me about the mission and wanting to find some way to help. Which is good, really. They need something to do, some way to feel useful, and the thought of a rescue mission gives everyone hope. It also means that I have less work to do to prepare, because my family is only too eager to gather random supplies and check weapons we might need.

Of course, the down side of this is that, at the pace things are moving, we’ll be ready to leave by tomorrow. I don’t know if I’ll be ready for that. I refuse to let anyone see it, but I’m tired. And not he ‘I missed a few hours of sleep the other night’ kind of tired, either. This is the type of tired you only get through recovering from serious injuries on a regular basis. I think my body’s used up whatever reserve energy it had and I feel like I’m running on empty.

I don’t want to delay this mission just for me. Gold could get hurt or killed any day while he’s working for mom. It’s not safe to leave him out there any longer than I have to. Still, I know it’s dangerous to go on a mission while I’m like this; not just dangerous for me, either. It’s dangerous for anyone working with me if I’m not at the top of my game. _It’s dangerous enough even when I am_ , I think. So, despite my own impatience and despite how badly I want to get Gold back, I send a message to everyone’s holo-pads. The official date we leave for the mission is in three days. That should be plenty of time for me to get the team together, prepare them, and hopefully finish healing.

After I send the message, I pull up the mission roster once again. The first few names are obvious: myself, Platinum, and Agent Washington. All good fighters, all strong and skilled enough to take on Gold. The next name comes with a bit of an explanation. Yttrium knows how to safely deactivate Gold’s chip, even if mom has modified it. Next up is Doc. Of course, if things go according to plan we won’t need him, but it’s best to be prepared. Normally I would prefer to bring Rhodi along, but he doesn’t have any armor. It won’t do for the team’s doctor to become a liability.

And then there’s the last name on the list. Private Dick Simmons. I don’t know too much about him, but Nick said he’s the right choice. I trust my brother’s judgment. Still, I want to talk to him myself. It pays to be cautious, especially when his entire job will be to protect Yttri. I can’t take chances with my sister’s life.

It’s early morning, so I assume Simmons will be in the mess hall like everyone else. I frown. I don’t like having conversations like this in such public settings. It confuses things if other people are allowed to interrupt, and it’s hard to be calm and persuasive with so much noise around. My best bet would be to get him alone some time later and talk to him then. In the mean time, I need to check our armory.

The armory is right next to the hangar, so I pass through there on my way. As usual, Iodine and Beryllium are hanging around the ship. Io’s reading a manual on engines while Beryl sits in the pelican’s cockpit, pretending to fly. I know Nick’s been trying to teach her when he has the time. He says she’s gotten pretty good, at least at the simulations. Maybe someday, when this is all over, she’ll be able to get her pilot’s license. I smile at the thought of such a real, normal future for her. I want that for everyone here.

I reach the armory and step into the small room. Boxes of grenades are piled in the corner, mostly flashbangs but with a few small boxes of frags and plasmas mixed in. One wall is lined with weapons of human design, another Covenant, and the third is covered in stun and paint guns for training. I see a few from the last category are missing and assume Tinu is training with the kids. She’s always liked working with them. I wonder if she’ll become a teacher some day.

I shake off these musings and turn my attention to the task at hand. I need to pick which guns will be best for fighting Gold without hurting him. The paint pellets in the training guns only work if the armor’s set to training protocols, so unless Gold forgot to switch his armor to combat mode after his last round of training, I don’t think they’ll be very effective. _Too bad_ , I think. _That would have been useful._ I then turn my attention to the stun guns. I know from experience that most of them aren’t very powerful. I doubt they could stop Gold, even if he wasn’t using armor. Except for one.

“This looks promising,” I say, picking up one of the guns off the wall to examine it. It looks sort of like a human assault rifle, with some distinctly alien elements to the design. I’ve practiced with this one in training before, though never against a real opponent. Yttri designed it. It’s sort of her specialty, merging the strongest elements of both human and alien technologies. This one combines the Covenant use of plasma with the human tendency toward projectile weaponry. It fires a low-powered plasma blast encasing a pellet designed to administer an electrical charge. Yttri claims it has enough power to stop a charging brute. That should at least slow Gold down. It’s probably our best bet.

I count the guns on the wall. We have four total. _Should be enough for what we need_ , I decide, placing the gun back where I found it. _That’s one for me, one for Wash, one for Tinu, and one for Simmons_ , I count off in my head. Yttri won’t get one, but she won’t be fighting anyway so it shouldn’t be a problem. It’s almost too convenient how well it works out, and I’m torn between feeling thankful for the luck and waiting for something to happen to mess it up. I suppose it doesn’t matter. It’ll be a huge piece of luck if we get to use the guns at all anyway.

I leave the armory and head back into the hangar. Yttri should be in her workroom by now, so I decide to head there. I want to see if she has any new gadgets that might help on this mission. Also, according to Nick, there’s a good chance I’ll find Simmons there. I can’t imagine why, though. Yttri doesn’t normally let people hang around while she’s working.

 

* * *

 

Yttri glances up from the blueprints through a veil of dark, curly hair. Normally she would tie it back, but not today. Today she’s content to leave her hair where it falls. It serves as the perfect shield for her wandering eyes as she fixes them on Simmons.

Something’s seemed off about her cyborge friend all day. She’s already caught him staring at her a few times. _Really, though, that isn’t very unusual,_ she thinks. At least he’s been better about it than the teal guy. She’d only ever caught him staring at her butt. At least Simmons has the decency to be looking at her face when she catches him.

So, no, the staring isn’t what’s strange. Neither is the nervous fidgeting. Simmons has always twisted his fingers together and shifted his feet and struggled to maintain eye contact when speaking to her. That’s just business as usual. The nervous stuttering is the same as well.

Really, it isn’t one particular thing that catches her attention. It’s all of them together.

Yttri knows that none of this is really new. Simmons has acted like this since she first met him. This is just the first time she’s really paid attention to it. She doesn’t know why Simmons behavior bothers her. It hasn’t affected his work at all, except for when he dropped that wrench on his toe while handing it to her. Yttri still isn’t sure what’d happened. He hadn’t been using the mechanical arm, so it couldn’t have been a malfunction. She remembers that her hand had accidentally touched his when she’d reached for the tool. _Maybe I startled him or something_ , she guesses.

Yttri stops suddenly, an annoying realization creeping into her head. She’s spent the past three minutes staring and thinking about the cyborge when she’s supposed to be working. She growls quietly, angry that she’s let herself become distracted, and forces her eyes back to the table. She doesn’t know why the sim-trooper has been occupying her thoughts so much today. She tries to tell herself it’s because she’s been designing his new arm, but she knows that’s a lie.

She glances at Simmons again from behind the curtain of hair. As she expected, he’s staring right back at her, unaware that their eyes are meeting. He’s wearing normal clothes instead of his armor, so for once she can see his face. She can practically feel his eyes tracing over her hair as he tries to make out the shape of her face from where it’s hidden. His gaze is oddly distant. Yttri smiles. He must be thinking about something as well.

Yttri tries to turn back to her work, but her eyes linger on a tiny scar on his chin, the thin line of pink cutting through a few freckles. She wonders where it came from. Had one of the blue soldiers caused it? Or maybe a freelancer? Or was it an accident of some sort? She opens her mouth to ask before stopping herself. _I don’t have time for this kind of nonsense_ , she scolds herself. _I have to get back to work_.

Yttri looks back to the blueprints on the table. White lines on dark blue paper form a rough sketch of a robotic arm. The sketch is surrounded by notes about materials and wire configurations. She struggles to keep her eyes on the table for a few minutes before giving up. _This clearly isn’t working_ , she thinks.

Yttri turns away from the worktable suddenly and strides toward Simmons. If she can’t keep her attention off of him, she’s at least going to get some use out of it. She grabs his arm and rolls the sleeve up past his shoulder without a word. Simmons jumps and starts to blush at the touch, but doesn’t pull away. “Need some measurements,” Yttri mutters in explanation.

Simmons nods, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

Yttri runs her fingers over the skin of his shoulder where it connects to the metal. It’s scarred and uneven, clearly not the work of a trained surgeon. She wonders if he cares, if it bothers him that the job was done so poorly. She frowns. It bothers her. He shouldn’t have been stuck with such a poor quality repair just because someone else didn’t know what they were doing.

Yttri’s eyes narrow as she notices a slight reddening of the skin where it touches the metal, a sign of abrasion. This isn’t right. There should be some sort of rubber cushioning here, not just skin on metal. _There probably isn’t even any internal reinforcement to the joint_ , she thinks bitterly. She has no doubt that it hurts. This is beyond sloppy work. Whoever did this must have had no idea what they were doing. She supposes that she can’t really blame them, though. The man who Simmons said did this didn’t have any sort of training. He couldn’t have known the deeper repercussions or the damage this could cause. As long as the mechanics worked, he probably didn’t care.

_That’s what happens when you think of people like machines_ , a small part of her mind whispers. _You start to forget that they can feel pain, that they’re fragile._

Yttri looks up at Simmons. He seems embarrassed. She wonders if he even understands what’s wrong with this. “Does is hurt?” she asks. She makes sure her voice stays detached and professional, despite the anger burning inside her.

“Sometimes,” Simmons shrugs, once again refusing to look her in the eye. She doesn’t know why, but it irritates her that he never looks at her when they talk. “It’s not that bad, though,” Simmons adds.

Yttri shakes her head. He’s gotten used to it; accepted it as normal. “It shouldn’t cause you any pain,” she explains. “If it is, that means it could be causing further damage.”

Simmons nods. “I know,” he says. “I-it gets really sore sometimes, but I can manage. It’s no big deal.”

Yttri scowls and drops the arm, letting it fall to his side. “Once I get the parts, I’m fixing this,” she tells him.

“You don’t have to,” Simmons says quickly. “Really, I’m used to it.”

Yttri shakes her head. She’s not going to leave this up for discussion. “It’s one thing for your arm to be outdated. It’s another thing for it to hurt you. I’m fixing it.” She says the last sentence with finality.

Simmons looks like he’s going to argue but is stopped by the door opening behind them.

 

* * *

 

I hold back a slight sigh of annoyance as I step into the room. Nick was right. Simmons is here. I guess I should stop being surprised by the fact that all my siblings are smarter than me.

I look at Yttri and realize she’s wearing her ‘someone touched my toolbox without asking’ scowl, which makes me immediately fear for Simmons life. Yttri is very protective of her tools. The look, however, seems to be aimed at the universe in general and not Simmons himself, so I think he has a good chance at survival. I wonder what happened to make her so upset.

“Simmons,” I say from the doorway. I don’t really want to go further into the room. It feels like I’ve interrupted something, though I’m not sure what exactly.

“Y-yeah?” he asks, dragging his attention over to me.

“I need to talk to you,” I say. “Alone. Could you follow me?” I half turn toward the door as I finish, looking back to see if Simmons will follow.

The red haired soldier looks at the mechanic for a moment. She’s standing in front of him and his back’s to a table, so there isn’t anywhere for him to go. After a moment of silence makes it obvious that Yttri doesn’t plan on moving, Simmons sidesteps awkwardly around her. The blush on his face only deepens when his human arm accidentally brushes hers. He mumbles something about coming back later before walking toward the door.

I watch the exchange curiously. I think I can see some of what Nick meant about them. It’s confusing, though. Yttri doesn’t seem to be acting like herself. Yttri normally doesn’t let people help her, not unless it’s someone like Iodine who she’s worked with for a long time. She doesn’t even like people hanging around in her workroom. _She must really trust this guy_ , I think.

Simmons keeps glancing back at Yttri as he leaves the room. It’s only once we’re out in the hall and the door is closed behind him the he turns his attention to me. “What did you want to talk about?”

I pull my mind back to the conversation at hand, reminding myself that I can ponder Yttri’s odd behavior later.

“I’m sure by now you’ve heard about the mission we’re planning,” I start. When Simmons nods, I continue. “Nick suggested you for part of the mission. I need to know if you want to go with us.”

“Does it matter?” Simmons asks. “I mean, even if I don’t want to go, won’t you just order me to anyway?”

I shake my head. “This mission could be dangerous,” I explain. “I won’t demand that you risk your life. That’s your choice.”

Simmons shifts his eyes away from me for a second. “I- I don’t know,” he says after a moment. “I’m not really the best fighter. I probably couldn’t help you much anyway, and I- I’m just not sure…” he lets the sentence trail away into silence.

I nod. He doesn’t want to say that he’s not willing to risk his life for people he doesn’t really know. I understand. I hadn’t really expected he would. Still, I need someone for this job. If Nick really thinks this guy’s the right choice, I have to at least try to convince him.

“If things go according to plan, you shouldn’t really be in the fight. I just need someone to guard Yttrium.”

Simmons eyes snap up to meet mine. “Yttri’s going?” he asks.

I nod, silenced for a moment by the level of concern in his voice. “We need her to deactivate Gold’s chip. The problem is, she’s not a fighter. Even though she won’t be involved in the actual fight, I want someone there to protect her, just in case anything goes wrong.”

Simmons looks back at the door behind us, silent and thoughtful. Eventually, he turns back to look at me. There’s something in his eyes, something I can’t place, but behind it I see determination.

“I’ll do it,” Simmons says. “I, uh, just need to tell Sarge first. He’s still my CO. I should let him know if I’m going on a mission.”

“Of course,” I say, nodding. Even though they’re not part of any formal military anymore, I understand that a habit like that would be hard to break. Besides, I don’t want to disrupt whatever team dynamic they have in place. It’s worked out for them so far.

Simmons turns and starts walking down the hall. He pauses after a few steps and half turns back to face me. “Thanks. For-for trusting me with this. I know you care about your family and… Just, thanks.”

“As long as you understand how important this is,” I say. “No matter what, you need to protect her.”

“I will.” Simmons glances at the door again. “Believe me, I understand. I won’t let you down.”

I nod again before he sprints off down the hall.


	32. Sins of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still bad chapter names. Still, epically long chapter this time around, so maybe that makes up for it.

A wave of dizziness washes over me as Simmons disappears from sight. I stagger to the side until my hand can touch the wall and lean on it for support. I take a deep breath, pressing my fingers into the cool metal of the wall. After a moment, the dizziness passes and I stand up straighter. I glance up and down the hall, but no one’s there. _Good_ , I think with relief. _No one saw_. I don’t need my ever-caring family to tell me what I already know.

I turn back toward Yttri’s room. While I’m here, I might as well see if she has anything new to help fight Gold.

When I walk into the room again Yttri is sitting on a stool, furiously scribbling notes and drawings while hunched over a blueprint. “Would you prefer a metallic casing, or synth-skin?” she asks when she hears the door close.

“What?” I ask.

Yttri turns to look at me. “Oh,” she says, sounding slightly disappointed. “I thought you were the cyborge.”

“He went to see his Sergeant,” I explain.

Yttri nods. “Probably for the best. I was starting to need a break from people anyway.”

I recognize the obvious hint to leave, but choose to ignore it. I need to talk about something important. I know this will only take a few minutes. She can go back to her chosen solitude once I’m done.

“Did you get the message I sent about our mission?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she says. “And before you ask, no. I don’t have any new gadgets. I don’t have the supplies to play around right now, so all my fun little projects have gone on hold.”

“Not even any new modified guns or anything?” I ask hopefully. She shakes her head, and I sigh. “We’re going to need more firepower to stop Gold, but we need to make sure it’s nonlethal…” I say as I think out loud.

“You have those stunners I made,” Yttri points out.

I shrug dismissively. “I don’t think they’ll be enough. You said they could stop a brute. I’ve seen Gold take one out in a single punch before.”

“Glad I’m not fighting him,” Yttri mutters. She sets down her pen and thinks for a minute. “I’ll check out the stunners later, see if I can work something out,” she says after a while. “But don’t get your hopes up.”

I nod. I suppose it’s the best I’ll get.

I turn to leave when I hear a familiar thumping from the closet in the corner of the room. “Please tell me you didn’t lock him up again,” I say without turning around.

“Hey, this time it wasn’t my fault,” Yttri says defensively. “He started malfunctioning. Wouldn’t stop spinning in circles, kept crashing into things. I figured he was less likely to hurt himself in the closet than out here.”

I walk over to the closet in question and open it, snatching Lopez off the ground before he has a chance to roll anywhere. He makes a whirring sound as the wheels continue to spin. “What are we going to do with you?” I whisper.

_“Get these wheels off me_ ,” the perturbed sounding robot demands.

“You’re the one who ran away the last time I tried to take them,” Yttri says. “You can keep the broken things for all I care.”

Lopez starts to say something, which I’m pretty sure would have translated into something bad, before I cut him off. I just thought of something that causes a smile to spread across my face.

“Yttri, remind me, what’s wrong with the hornet?”

She takes a moment to stop glaring at Lopez and turn her attention back to me. “I finally got the engine and rotors fixed,” she says slowly, unsure of why I asked. “The targeting and navigational systems are still fried, though. I can’t fix them unless we get replacements.”

“What if we had something that did the job of both?”

“What do you have in mind?” Yttri asks suspiciously.

“From what I can tell, our Spanish speaking friend here has a similar ‘dumb AI’ set up as the Mother of Invention’s onboard computer,” I say, holding Lopez up a little higher.

_“’Dumb’ AI?”_ he asks incredulously.

I ignore his comment and continue. “A ship’s onboard computer replaces the manual controls for navigation and targeting, right?” Yttri nods. “So, what do you want to bet Lopez could fly the hornet?”

Yttri looks thoughtful for a moment, before smiling. “That… might actually work,” she says eventually.

_“What are you two talking about?_ ” Lope asks again.

Yttri snatches the robot head out of my hands and holds it up to face her. “Well, Lopez? How would you like a new body with a whole lot of fire power?”

I’m sure if a disembodied robot head could smile, he would. _“Si_ ,” Lopez says.

 

* * *

 

I walk into the nearly empty mess hall, hand held unconsciously over my ribs in a futile effort to make them stop aching. Apparently they haven’t healed as thoroughly as I’d thought. I plan on grabbing some quick food and getting back to work preparing for the mission, when one of the sim-troopers stops me. I recognize him as the leader of the red team, who they call Sarge. He looks like he wants to say something, but doesn’t know where to start. "What do you need?" I ask him.

“Well, missy," Sarge says, the underlying and slightly patronizing tone of old-school male minded attitude going unnoticed to his ear, as usual, "I've been hearing that you're setting up a secret mission and to tell you the truth, I'm so bored that I'd consider jump ropin’ over the mouth of a Sarlaac pit just for a taste of something new."

_And now there’s this to deal with,_ I think, giving him a look I hope will make it clear that I didn’t understand. After a moment, he continues.

"Basically, I can't help but be a little offended. I mean here you are workin' day and night setting this mission up and you left out the single greatest military leader of this century. I've been through it all! There was that time when the Blues had that quest or whatever where that guy got pregnant and we stayed around at that windmill place and fought off a bunch of aliens. We helped fight off the Wyomings from taking over Blood Gulch and taking that alien baby to fulfill that one prophecy. We even helped Washington fight the Meta and take him down."

I flinch when I hear the name. It’s obvious by the way he brags about it that he isn’t aware the Meta was also my brother, Manny. Most of the other stuff he mentioned doesn’t even make sense. I stand in silence for a moment, trying to wrap my head around what the older man had just said. I can't decide if some of my information about what happened in Blood Gulch is incomplete, or if Sarge is confused, or both.

After a moment, I decide it doesn't matter. Sarge's basic meaning is clear. He wants to be a part of the mission. I don't want him to be. But I can't afford to offend him, either. He’s obviously... different. I’ll have to be careful about what I say.

"This is going to be a different sort of mission than what you're used to," I try to explain. "It's a rescue mission. I don't want to put you in a situation that you can't handle."

"Ah, come on. I said I wanted to help and I meant it. Sure I've messed up a few times and there have been missions that have gone completely horribly. But even though we have had a few setbacks, without the Reds and Blues, Carolina and Church would be mince meat. Ya see I may not be quick of speech and we may be unorthodox, but we've managed to kick some serious freelancer ass before. What's got ya so worried about me?"

I’m not a dishonest person. Not really. I’m just a diplomatic person. Which means that I sometimes withhold just the right amount of truth so as not to hurt anyone's feelings and hopefully keep them from shooting me. Unfortunately, it can sometimes be hard to form a decent argument when I don't want to say what I _really_ want to say. And on a day like today, with my ribs starting to ache and my head feeling just a little bit fuzzy, I sometimes reach a point where I don't want to be diplomatic anymore.

"You're boasting about victories," I say as calmly as I can manage. "I understand that you and your people have done some incredible things. But your greatest victory, the single greatest feat of skill and power you have ever performed, was when you killed the Meta, who just so happened to be my brother. And now, I'm planning a mission to rescue my other brother, and you say that you want to come along. I'm sure you can see how I don't feel I can trust you with that." I finish with an icy edge to my voice, which I can't help but think sounds like Dr. Han.

Sarge looks uncomfortable for a moment, then sighs, and I can see the guilt in his eyes at my words.

"I really didn't know he was your brother. We were attacked. Everything we knew and the people we... well, ya know what... whether I like them all the time or not... even Grif... My people were attacked by a hostile and dangerous man who was already out of his mind. How many times did we almost die because of him? I don't even know. Maybe he wasn't in control of his mind anymore but… Well, we didn't know of anyone named Silver at the time. And we didn't know of Silver's brother. All we knew, lady, was that there was one big monster of a man trying to kill us... and we killed him first."

I can tell that Sarge doesn’t mean for this to hurt my feelings. He doesn’t seem like someone who would be cruel or callous for no reason. He just looks like someone that has lived too long and seen too much to consider sugar coating anything.

"I'm sorry that I helped kill your brother Silver. But let me ask you one question: If it was my brother trying to kill you, kill any one of your family... What would you do?"

"Kill him," I say, without hesitation. I try to not look Sarge in the eye as I speak, aware of the point he’s trying to make. I know it’s nothing wrong. Sometimes people die. As long as it's not my family, I’m okay with it. Still, I can see what Sarge is trying to say.

"I can't forgive what you did," I say, matter-of-factly, "but I guess I can understand it. If the roles were reversed... I know I wouldn't have hesitated.

"That doesn't change the fact that on this mission, you might find yourself in that same position again. Gold is out for blood. He's fighting to kill, but we can't do the same. It's not him who's doing this. He isn't in control. We have to save him."

"Exactly. You'd kill my dear brother without hesitation if he tried to kill you or someone you love. But if this fight isn't to the death, what makes you think we couldn't tone ourselves down? Sure we haven't exactly been tested with rescue missions, except for once. But that one time went off without a hitch though, missy. And we had a major part in rescuing Epsilon and bringing that guy YOU are looking for back in one piece. Yeah we ain't exactly new to killing to protect our own. We're crazy, reckless, some would say we're stupid. But there is one element you are missing here."

Sarge hesitates, a smirk on his weathered face. I’m not sure whether it’s endearingly senile, or maddening. I’m leaning toward the latter. After a beat he gets to the point.

"The biggest thing about this mission here is that this ain't personal for us. It's a trial and apparently a damn good one. We like being tested and we ain't afraid to kill. There's a certain... care, a trust that I feel for all of you. I mean hell, you came to Chorus, you found and rescued us, asked us to come with you and help you and we agreed. That means that we agree to help with whatever you are doing. This ain't a personal mission so there really are no hard feelings here, only the need to test myself in a battle that is, for once, not to the death. You don't want me to kill Gold, all you gotta do is say so, and you did. You have my word I will not kill Gold, but I will protect the men and women and kids that I promised to protect when I said I would help you. If that's not what you wanted from us all along, well I'll be honest: I don't know why we're here."

I sigh, a small measure of my anger draining away. "That is what I want," I say. "I just..." I sigh again shaking my head. "I have to be careful and make sure I can trust you. I can't take chances with this." I try to stand a little straighter, locking my eyes on Sarge's. "You're a leader. You're used to giving orders, not taking them. If you come on this mission, can I trust that you'll follow my lead and do as I say?"

"Heh heh. You ever hear of the time we followed Carolina and Washington under duress to locate the Director? Well let's just say that the only time we disobeyed a direct order was when Carolina was so out of her mind with revenge and misplaced workplace aggression that she was handing us out to fight a hundred Texes on our own."

Sarge chuckles again, recalling the memories.

"Yeah, all the way up to the point where Carolina was pointing a gun at people she was supposed to be helping as they helped her, it was a hell of a ride. Explosions, evil crazed robots and glorious battles galore. It was fun, but yes we all followed orders. Sure it was under duress, but we wanted to help Washington. We didn't trust Carolina because she never gave us a reason to trust her. But we're here for you. Because you asked, each and every one of us, and you didn't force us to come along. I like you. I can't speak for the rest of the guys but I think they like you as well.”

Sarge takes a step closer and a smile crosses his craggy features. His coarse white chin dusting nearly glows beneath the bright mess hall lights. I think briefly that he might just be the oldest person I’ve ever met.

"Miss Silver, you have my word that I know how to take orders as well as I know how to give them. Don't point a gun in my face and you can trust me till the end of this war of yours."

I stare up at the older man for a moment, considering this. Eventually, I nod. "Alright,” I say, somewhat reluctantly, “but I have one condition." I nod to the shotgun Sarge wears on his back even now, while out of armor. "That stays behind. You can use one of the stunners Yttri made."

Sarge opens his mouth to protest but swallows it. His eyes grow harder for a moment before he sighs and removes the weapon from his back. I can tell from the way the grip has formed to the shape of his hand that he’s had it for a long time, and the pained look in his eyes tells me he must love this gun.

“I’ll take good care of it,” I promise, reaching out. He nods understandingly as I take the gun from his hands.

He seems to think about something for a moment and removes the pistol from his hip holster, handing it over with a wink.

"Is Yttri's stunner shaped like a shotgun? If so, then hell, even I can have an imagination," Sarge replies with a grin.

 

* * *

 

I stand in the shadows around the hangar doors, watching everyone run around and load supplies. Rho’s using the room’s projectors to set her avatar on top of the ship and telling people where to put what. There isn’t much for her to tell them. A seven person mission doesn’t require a lot of supplies.

Yttri is standing near the hornet, talking to Lopez. I still can’t believe it actually worked. Yttri said she was also able to adjust the pelican’s slipspace drive so the hornet can follow us. It wouldn’t work with an actual pilot, since hornets aren’t airtight, but with Lopez flying the ship is space worthy. She insisted he come on the mission with us. She says it’s for intimidation, or to have extra fire power in case something goes wrong, but I think she just wants to test if Lopez really works with the ship. I told her as long as Lopez knows not to shoot unless ordered, he can tag along, though I doubt Gold will fall for the empty threat.

Yttri keeps pulling at the armor on her shoulders, trying to make it fit comfortably. It’s supposed to be one size fits all, but Nick’s made some modifications that are affecting it. I doubt she would feel comfortable even without the modifications, though. She’s never liked wearing armor.

Rho eventually pops up by my shoulder. “All done,” she says cheerily. Too cheerily, if you ask me. She’s nervous about this mission. _Can’t really blame her, though_ , I think. Considering how our last mission went and what happened the last time she saw Gold, I’d be worried if she wasn’t nervous.

I pull her chip from the wall’s terminal and plug her in the slot at the base of my skull before snapping my helmet on. “Ready to go?” she asks.

“Almost,” I say. I grab something leaned against the wall by my side and walk to the pelican. We’ve packed a few regular guns along with the stunners; once again, just in case. Even though I’m sure we have enough weaponry to handle anything Gold could throw at us, there’s something special I want to pack.

I step up to the weapon rack in the back of the ship. There are five battle rifles, as well as extra ammo packs. I take down one of the rifles and replace it with Sarge’s shotgun. I get the vague impression of a laugh from Rho, but no other comment.

As I finish securing the shotgun to the rack, Lico shuffles up to the ship’s entrance. I try to hold back a sigh before I even look at him. This has become routine for us. Silicon always asks to come on missions, and I always tell him no. I turn toward the boy and see that he’s wearing training armor and has a paint pistol on his hip. The gun looks far too big for his little hands.

“Lico,” I start, but he cuts me off.

“I know you won’t let me go,” he says quickly. “I know you don’t think I can help. You think I’m too young-“

I kneel down and put my hands on his shoulders to stop him. “I’ve never said you’re too young to be helpful,” I correct him. “I said you’re too young for me to let you be in harm’s way.”

“I can take care of myself,” Lico says, barely managing to not sound pouty.

“I don’t doubt it,” I say. “You’re already better than I was at your age. But a kid shouldn’t have to deal with the kind of things we’re going to face. I can’t risk losing you, Lico. I love you too much.” I reach up to ruffle his hair. Partway through the gesture, Lico pulls me into a hug.

“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?” he asks once he lets me go.

I shake my head. “Nope.”

Lico sighs exaggeratedly. “Fine,” he says. He walks part way down the ramp before turning back to me. “Nick told me to tell you something in case he can’t make it here before you leave,” he says.

“What’d he say?” I ask, suspecting I already know the answer.

“Don’t get killed,” Nick’s voice says behind me. I turn and see him stepping out of the ship’s cockpit. “Just checking the controls,” he says to explain his presence on the ship.

“Sorry we have to leave you behind,” I say.

Nick shrugs. “Don’t be. I get why. Too many people would only complicate the mission. You need to keep it as simple as possible.”

I nod. “And don’t worry, I won’t,” I add, finishing off out pre-mission tradition.

Nick smiles before trotting down the ramp toward Silicon. “Come on, little man,” he says, grabbing the kid’s shoulder and turning him away from the pelican. “Let’s get you back to the training room.”

I watch them go, smiling.

A few minutes later Doc walks into the back of the ship, medical bag in hand. I remember the conversation I had with him and Rhodi yesterday. Rhodi had tried to argue about being left behind, but eventually relented when I pointed out that he didn’t have armor. I’d thought Doc would be hesitant to come, but apparently he preferred the idea of a rescue mission to any other kind we might plan, even if it would involve fighting.

Doc’s arrival is followed closely by those of Wash and Simmons. Yttri sprints into the ship when she sees them come, taking a seat next to the maroon soldier. Tinu and Sarge show up last, Tinu chatting about the difference between needlers and spikers and Sarge looking slightly uncomfortable. He glances at the weapon rack when he steps into the ship and smiles before sitting down.

I climb up into the cockpit and start up the pre-flight routine. Once everyone’s situated in the back, we take off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silver's conversation with Sarge in this one was co-written with FalloutGuy1986 on fanfiction.net. He pretty much wrote all of Sarge's parts since I'm garbage with that character, and he's been working to help me get better.


	33. Family Feud

We land on Chorus a few hours later. Ruth should be sending the message to Gold now, telling him that I’ve come to the planet to scavenge supplies from the crashed ship. It’s a good opportunity for him to kill me. I know he won’t pass it up. I’m not sure how long it will take him to get here, though. We need to get in position now.

“I don’t like it,” Wash says as we step down the ramp of the pelican. “Leaving you out there as bate,” he clarifies.

“I’m a lure, actually,” I correct him, “not bate.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Bate is meant to be used once,” I explain. “Lures are designed to last.” After a moment of confused silence, I add, “It’s a fishing thing, or so Nick says. He’s kind of a nerd about stuff like that.”

“Nick likes fishing?” Wash asks with amusement.

I shake my head. “Nick likes useless and obscure old earth facts and history.”

“Alright, enough with the chit chat, ladies,” Sarge says, stepping down the ramp.

I cringe inside my helmet at the tactlessness of his comment. Still, I can’t help the look of sympathy I send his way. I’m sure I’d be testy too if Tinu had talked my ear off the entire flight.

Tinu bounces down the ramp next, snapping her helmet on. “I’m with the red guy. We should get moving.”

I nod. “Rho, bring up the nav points,” I say.

“On it,” Rho chirps, and immediately arrows begin to appear on my HUD.

“Tinu, Wash, Sarge, your places are marked,” I say. “Make sure to stay hidden until Rho signals you.” I check to make sure they each have one of the stunners before sending them away. I then turn to Yttri and Simmons. “You two are stationed at the far end of the canyon, there,” I say, pointing to a place I know is highlighted in each of their helmets.

“Shouldn’t we be closer?” Yttri asks. “The stunners won’t keep Gold out for long.”

I shake my head. “I want you as far away from the firefight as possible,” I explain. “I’d rather wait a little while for you to get over here after the fight than risk one of you getting hit by a stray bullet.”

Yttri makes a noise like she’s going to argue, then falls silent. “Fine,” she says after a moment.

Before the two leave, I hand Simmons the last stunner.

“Don’t you need this?” he asks as he hesitantly reaches for the gun.

“Not enough to go around,” I explain, shrugging. “I’ll deal with Gold hand-to-hand.” I then pull one of the pistols from my hip and offer it to Yttri.

Yttri backs up a step. “Si, I- I can’t,” she says, not moving her hands from her side. “You know I-“

I step toward her and pull one of her wrists forward, pressing the gun into her hand. “I know you’re a good shot,” I say. “Don’t hesitate.” Yttri continues her mumbled protests, and I speak a little louder to drown them out. “It’s just in case of an emergency”.

I let go of the pistol. For a moment, I think it will tip out of her hand, before she finally tightens her grip. Her hands shake slightly as she puts the gun in the holster on her hip.

“Get going,” I say, nodding toward the other end of the canyon. “You need to be hidden before Gold gets here.”

Yttri nods once, curtly, before turning around. “Come on, cyborge,” she says as she walks past the maroon soldier. Simmons spends a moment glancing between us nervously, obviously curious about the exchange, before hurrying to follow her.

I sigh as they leave. I know Yttri hates using guns. She has ever since the attacks. I’ve never gotten the whole story, but she’d been shot a few times when I found her, and her partner was missing. I never asked her to tell me more, and she never offered. A lot of us prefer not to talk about what happened that day.

I push aside these memories and focus back on the present. I turn to face the hornet sitting in the grass behind the pelican. “You know where you’re going?” I ask.

_“Si,”_ Lopez voice projects from the ship.

“Whole new body, and you can still only speak Spanish?” I ask. My only answer is silence and the slight hum of a motor. “Alright, get going,” I say, shooing him away. Lopez takes off and disappears over the top of a cliff.

“What about me?” Doc asks from where he’s standing at the back of the pelican.

“Stay in the ship,” I tell him. “And be ready if anyone needs you.”

Doc nods before walking back up the ramp. My sincerest hope is that we won’t need him and that he’ll spend the entire mission sitting and waiting. I assume that’s how most people feel about doctors. It’s smart to have them around, but you really don’t want to need them.

I spin in a slow circle, surveying my surroundings. Everyone’s in place. All that’s left is to wait for Gold.

 

* * *

 

Luckily, I don’t have to wait long. It’s less than an hour before the sensors we left in orbit alert me to an approaching ship. It matches the type we know Gold’s been using.

“Alright, Rho, let everyone know he’s here,” I say, stepping away from the pelican.

I begin walking toward the wreckage of the UNSC ship. I make sure to keep my eyes focused ahead of me, not allowing myself to scan the sky for the ship I know is cloaked somewhere up there. I try to guess what Gold’s doing now, if he’s landed yet or if he’s still watching from the sky. He’s probably using an active camo unit again, so I won’t see it coming when he does attack.

As if he’s reading cues from my mind, Gold chooses that moment to kick me in the back. I fall forward and roll back to my feet, spinning to face my brother. He fades into view as I raise my fists.

“Gold,” I gasp, feigning surprise at his presence.

“You never did learn to watch your back,” he says, stepping forward slowly. “You’re so used to having someone there to take care of you. First Manny, then me. You never figured out how to work alone.”

“She isn’t alone,” Rho says, projecting herself just over my shoulder.

“Rho,” Gold says, voice containing a menacing happiness. “Mom will be glad when I bring you back.”

“Not gonna happen,” I say, raising my fists higher.

“Come on, Si,” Gold says, holding his hands out to the side. “You know you can’t beat me.”

I rush forward and throw a few punches, which Gold dodges. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” I say. I aim a kick at his chest, but he spins away from it and comes back with an attack of his own.

I dodge a few punches before letting one hit my stomach. The force of the blow knocks the breath out of me and I stagger back, drawing Gold toward Tinu’s hiding spot. Gold lets me stumble away from him as he talks.

“You never should have left, Si.” Gold’s voice is filled with anger as he stalks toward me. “You shouldn’t have abandoned mom.”

“I didn’t abandon anyone,” I spit out. “She left us for dead. She betrayed us.”

“She’s our mother!” Gold shouts.

“She never cared for us,” I insist, backing closer to the cave where I know Tinu is hiding. “We were nothing but experiments to her.”

Gold stops in his tracks, and I take a half step toward him. “Please, Gold, just listen. We don’t need to fight.”

“Yes, we do,” he whispers, hand disappearing behind his back. I realize what he’s doing just as his hand comes back into view. “Catch!” he shouts, hurling the glowing blue grenade at me.

I dodge to the side just in time, hearing the hiss as the grenade flies by my head. “Mom must be affecting your sense of humor,” I comment, trying to sound casual as Gold charges toward me. I raise my arms to bock his hastily thrown punches. “Burning plasma to the face isn’t really the same as playing catch.”

“Just die!” Gold growls, kicking me in the chest. I stagger back under the force and struggle to regain my balance.

“You know you don’t mean that,” I pant as I duck under another punch, nearly falling to my knees.

Gold takes the opportunity to kick me in the side and I roll in an attempt to lessen the impact. “You’re a traitor,” he snaps.

I stumble to my feet exaggeratedly, hoping to convince Gold of his victory. “Almost there,” Rho whispers in my helmet’s speakers.

“I’m also your sister,” I tell Gold. I know I have to keep talking, keep his focus on me. “Even if I’m a traitor, we’re still family. I know you don’t want to kill me.”

Gold laughs, but the sound lacks any form of humor. It’s a noise of anger and pain twisted into resentment. “You’ve never been betrayed,” he says with scorn. “You’ve never had everyone you loved, who you thought you could trust, turn against you. If you did, you’d understand.”

I back up a little further and Gold follows, finally stepping past Tinu’s hiding place.

“If you were in my place, if someone betrayed you, you’d want them dead too.”

“That’s not true!” Tinu shouts, jumping out of her hiding place and kicking Gold in the back. He stumbles forward but stops himself before running into me. “She would never hurt any of us. She doesn’t want to hurt you.”

Gold turns, trying to face both Tinu and myself at once. “I didn’t want to believe it,” he says, looking at Tinu. “I can’t believe you’d choose to side with _her_!”

“We just want to help you,” Tinu says. She holds her hands out in a disarming gesture and takes a tentative step toward him. “Please, let us help.”

Gold charges toward her. “I. Don’t. Need. Your. Help!” he shouts, each word punctuated by a barely dodged kick or punch.

I run toward them. Tinu won’t be able to hold out for long against Gold’s onslaught, not on her own. As I reach them, I see Wash and Sarge out of the corner of my eye, running toward us. Rho must have signaled them while I was distracted. I kick at Gold’s legs from behind, trying to knock him off his feet. He somehow sees it coming and jumps over my kick. Still, it gives Tinu enough time to get out of Gold’s reach, which is what I’d wanted.

By the time Gold regains his balance, Sarge and Wash have caught up with us. Gold glances at the new arrivals as we surround him. “So you’re still working with these idiots,” he observes.

“I’ll show you who’s an idiot,” Sarge challenges, brandishing his stunner. “Prepare to taste red justice!”

Gold darts toward Sarge before he has a chance to fire. He knocks the gun out of Sarge’s hands and kicks him in the chest, sending him sprawling back in the dirt.

“Sarge!” Wash shouts, stepping between Gold and the older man.

Tinu and I lunge toward Gold at the same time, trying to grab him, but he dodges out of the way. He snatches Sarge’s gun off the ground and sprints a safe distance away before turning to face us again.

Gold glances down at the gun in his hands for a second, studying it. “Yttri designed this?” he guesses. He doesn’t bother to wait for an answer. “I wonder what it does.” He aims at us and fires.

Rho flashes a line on my HUD to show the path of the plasma blast. I push Tinu to the side before jumping back, barely making it out of the way in time.

Gold laughs and raises the gun to fire again. He stops, though, when he notices that the gun has started to glow and hum. “What the hell?” he whispers. An instant later there’s a bright explosion of plasma and electricity.

There’s a momentary pause before Tinu sprints over to Gold’s side and checks his pulse. “He’s okay,” she calls out, and I release the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

With Tinu taking care of Gold, I reach down a hand to Sarge. “You can get up now,” I say to the deathly still man, amusement lacing through my words. Sarge’s hand shoots up to grab mine and he practically bounces to his feet as I pull him up. “That was some good acting,” I comment.

Sarge grunts happily as he brushes the dirt off his arms. “Acting is a time honored military tradition,” he explains in what I assume he thinks is a scholarly tone. “You have to fool the enemy with superior intelligence and nerves of steel.”

I smile at the comments as we walk toward Gold. My eyes harden instantly when I see him, lying on the ground with the burnt remains of the overloaded stunner still clutched in his hands. Tinu’s pulled his helmet off, and I can’t help but think how young and peaceful he looks. For just a moment, he looks like my brother again. The moment doesn’t last, however, as Gold’s eyes slowly drift open and a scowl fixes on his face.

He tries to stand but Tinu holds him down.

“Let me go!” Gold growls.

“Calm down,” I say, trying to keep my voice gentle despite the adrenaline still in my veins. “This’ll be over soon.” I turn away from him as Rho turns on my radio, getting ready to tell Simmons and Yttrium to come over.

“Are you hurt?” Tinu asks Gold, hands still planted firmly on his shoulders.

Gold makes a noise that’s half laugh, half pain filled groan. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be too worried about me. I’d be worried about Yttrium and that sim-trooper.”

The same moment my radio activates, I hear an explosion from their side of the canyon.


	34. Separated

“He’s here.” Simmons hears Rho’s announcement through the speakers in his helmet. He activates his HUD’s binocular function and turns his eyes toward the battle. Most of it’s blocked by a large rock formation in the middle of the canyon, but he still tries his best to monitor what’s happening.

After a few minutes, he catches a glimpse of Silver and Gold through a gap in the rocks. He focuses on them just in time to see Silver get knocked to the ground. “Silver’s down!” he gasps.

“Part of the plan,” Yttri says, once again tugging at the armor on her shoulder. There’s a slight strain to her voice that Simmons suspects has nothing to do with the plight of her sister and quite a bit to do with the gun on her hip. Yttri hasn’t been acting the same since Silver handed her that pistol. Simmons doesn’t like it. He wants the old, grumpily easygoing Yttri back. He doesn’t want her to be scared.

“She’s trying to make Gold think he’s winning,” Yttri continues, oblivious to Simmons thoughts. “That way, hopefully, he’ll drop his guard somewhat before Tinu attacks.”

Simmons turns his attention back to the battle and watches as Gold viciously kicks at Silver’s side. “Are you sure she’ll be okay? That guy seems pretty tough.”

“Silver’s tougher,” Yttri says just a bit too adamantly. “She’ll be fine.” Simmons can’t help the feeling that she’s trying to convince herself just as much as him.

Simmons continues to watch the broken up pieces of the battle, and a few moments later sees Tinu come out of hiding to attack Gold. Sarge and Wash join the fight soon after. Simmons tries to guess which of his CO’s catchphrases the red armored soldier shouts as he steps toward Gold. He watches in shock as the older man gets knocked down.

“Sarge!” Simmons yells.

Yttri nudges him with her elbow. “Quiet!” she chastises. “We don’t want Gold to know we’re out here.”

“B-but Sarge. He-“

“It’s part of the plan,” Yttri says again. “Weren’t you paying attention back in the pelican?”

“No,” Simmons admits a little sheepishly. “I was studying the gun, to be sure I knew how to use it.”

Yttri rolls her eyes and shuffles a bit closer to him. She zooms in her HUD and focuses on the battle. “See, Gold just picked up Sarge’s stunner. That gun’s rigged,” she explains. “When Gold fires, it’ll overload and knock him out.”

Simmons opens his mouth to respond, then stops abruptly. Something looks weird out in the canyon, between the old red base where he and Yttri are hidden and the rock he’s been trying to see through. Simmons un-zooms his visor and scans the open terrain.

“Do you see that?” he asks.                                                                                         

“Gold getting knocked out just like I said he would?” Yttri asks, a bit of her old sarcasm back in her voice. “Yeah, I saw it.”

“No, not that,” Simmons says impatiently. “Out there, in the canyon. There’s something… blurry.”

“Blurry?” Yttri asks skeptically.

“Yeah,” Simmons says thoughtfully. “It’s almost like a shimmer.” It looks oddly familiar to the maroon soldier, but he can’t place it.

“Shimmer?” This time, Yttri sounds concerned.

It takes Simmons a half second too long to realize why Yttri’s concerned, and that’s when he remembers where he last saw something like this. That had been back in Blood Gulch, when Tex had first attacked red base. She’d been using an active camo unit, which made her look like nothing more than a trick of the eye; a mirage best left forgotten.

Simmons realizes with a sinking feeling that this canyon is full of those mirages. He opens his mouth to warn Yttri when the grenade lands between them.

 

* * *

 

“Yttri!” I shout. I hear weapons begin to fire from the other end of the canyon, but I can’t see the source. I start running in their direction. “Simmons! Yttri! Can you hear me?”

There’s a yelp behind me and I turn to see Tinu on the ground and Gold running away. Wash aims his stunner at the retreating man, but Gold fades from view before he has a chance to fire. I want to chase after him, but I can’t. I can still hear the soft pop of plasma fire from behind the rocks. I need to find out what’s going on with Yttri and Simmons.

Sarge helps Tinu to her feet while she mumbles something about getting kicked in the face. I begin to worry as I see a small crack in the side of her visor, but Rho assures me that Tinu’s vitals are normal. Still, I know she’s shaken. She shouldn’t charge into another fight right away. I tell Sarge to take her to the pelican before turning back toward the sound of plasma blasts.

Wash is shouting into his radio, trying to get some sort of response from our stranded teammates. “Simmons! Yttrium!” he nearly screams. “Somebody answer!”

“Wash?” Simmons staticy voice jumps through my helmet’s speakers. “Silver? ** yo** uys out there?”

“We’re here,” Wash says, relieved. “What’s going on?”

“**’re under attack,” is Simmons reply. “We can’t-“

“Are you okay?” Wash asks, cutting him off. “Are either of you hurt?”

There’s a long moment of static before we hear Simmons voice again, though it seems stronger now. “We’re fine,” he says. “We’re not hurt, but we’re pinned down, trapped inside red base. We need help.” I hear a mix of bullets and plasma fire over the radio.

“Where’s Yttri?” I ask. I start sprinting in their direction again, not bothering to check if Wash will follow. It doesn’t matter. Yttri would have spoken by now if she was able. I can’t help but think the worst.

“She’s here with me,” Simmons answers. “She’s fine, but I think her radio got knocked out in the explosion.”

I breathe a sigh of relief at that. My sister’s still in danger, but at least she’s alive. “Who’s attacking you?” I ask.

I reach the rocks in the center of the canyon and run around them. Their attackers come into view at the same time Simmons’ answer reaches my ears. “Robots,” he says. “It’s- they’re some sort of robot.”

He’s right. I’d recognize them anywhere. They’re training bots, just like the kind mom’s always had us practice against, except these are armed with plasma pistols and seem to be augmented with armor. I barely have a moment to estimate their numbers and see where Simmons and Yttri are trapped before some of the robots turn my way, bolts of green plasma chasing me back behind the rocks.

“Silver, there are too many,” Simmons says. “I- I don’t think I can hold them off for long.”

“Listen to me,” I say sternly, trying to distract him from his panic. “We’ll find a way to get to you, ok? We will get you out of there, but in the mean time I need you to do your job. You keep Yttri safe and you keep her calm.”

“Calm?”

I start sprinting back to the pelican and realize for the first time that Wash has followed me. “Yttri… doesn’t do well in firefights,” I say, remembering the last time Tinu tried to drag her into training. “You need to let her know that she’s going to be okay and that she’s not alone. Do you understand?”

“Okay,” Simmons says after a moment. Static begins to take over again as speaks. “*’ll try.”

“Just keep her safe,” I say again, struggling to keep my voice steady.

“I will,” Simmons says. “I pr**ise.”

There’s another burst of static before the radio cuts out.

Tinu steps forward when we reach the pelican, Doc hovering nervously by her side and muttering about how she should sit down. “What’s the situation?” she asks.

“Training bots,” I say. “At least a hundred, and they’re all armed. They must have been cloaked in the canyon, waiting for a signal from Gold.”

“He knew we were coming,” Wash adds.

I nod. The thought hadn’t really occurred to me yet, but I know it’s true the moment he says it. I don’t know how, but somehow Gold knew what we had planned. I curse silently. _How is he always one step ahead of us?_

“So what’s the plan?” Sarge asks.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, though I doubt any of them hear it. I shake my head and start again. “They’re cut off. Too many bots between us and them. I don’t know how to reach them.” I take a breath, tying to calm my panic. I can’t shut down now. I can’t let this happen again. I need to focus. I need to think of a way to help them.

Sarge walks over so he stands less than a foot in front of me, forcing me to look up to meet his gaze. “That’s one of my men out there with your sister,” he says, as though I don’t already know. “Now, we’re gonna get them back. You just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

I nod once, and he steps back. I try to think, try to imagine what we have that could possibly get through an army like that. Suddenly, it hits me.

“Lopez,” I say, activating my radio again. “Get down here.”

“What are you planning?” Wash asks, echoing Rho’s thoughts in my head.

I ignore him in favor of turning toward the man in red. “Sarge, get your shotgun.”

 

* * *

 

There’s a burst of static before Simmons’ radio cuts out. He shouts a few more times as he fires random, barely aimed plasma blasts toward the advancing wall of robots. “Silver! Wash! Sarge! Can anybody hear me?” It’s no use, though. They can’t hear him anymore.

“Radio’s jammed,” Yttri mutters from her place beside him.

Simmons looks at the robots for a moment. Half of them have started walking toward the other end of the canyon, presumably to find Silver and the others. The other half continue to march toward their meager shelter at red base, though they’re moving very slowly. Simmons estimates it will take the robots at least ten minutes just to reach the base. That gives them a little time. Still, he knows he doesn’t have enough ammo to take out even half of them. They need to find a way out of here.

He turns his attention to the woman next to him. “Are you okay?” Simmons asks her, remembering what Silver had said about her being scared. He wouldn’t have believed it before. Yttri’s always so confident. He’d expect her to get angry or annoyed, not scared. But now, looking at her, seeing the way her hands shake as she aims the pistol, he knows it’s true. “Yttri, look at me.”

Yttri glances at him. She whispers something that he can’t really hear, but it doesn’t sound positive.

Simmons reaches out hesitantly before putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m right here,” he says, repeating what Silver had told him as he tries to keep his voice steady. “Don’t worry. We’ll get out of this.”

Yttri stares at him for a moment before nodding, and her hands stop shaking.

“I don’t know if you heard, but Silver said they can’t get to us right away,” Simmons starts to explain. “They’re going to try, but I don’t think we can wait that long. We need to get ourselves out of here.”

Yttri peeks through the entrance to the base, causing Simmons hand to fall off her shoulder. “Training bots,” she says thoughtfully. “Not very fast, and they have trouble turning.” She ducks back behind the wall and looks at Simmons. “We might be able to get around them, if we can move fast.”

“Would running be fast enough?” Simmons asks hopefully. Yttri shakes her head. “Do you have any ideas, then?”

Yttri shakes her head again. “Sorry, cyborge. I’m afraid I’m not really much help in this sort of situation, not without some sort of machine to work with. Firefights aren’t exactly my specialty.”

Simmons fires the stunner over the wall for a few seconds. He knows they won’t last a minute out there on foot, and they can’t fight all of the robots. He doesn’t know what to do, but something Yttri said is itching in the back of his mind. She’d mentioned needing a machine. He knows they can’t make it on foot, but maybe…

He has an idea. It’s not a guarantee, but it’s a chance. Someone could have moved things at the base while he was gone, but if it’s still there then he has a way out. After all, this was red base. Sarge always made sure Red Team could claim vehicular superiority in the canyon (except when it came to tanks). He’s sure there’s something they can use. Unfortunately, he’ll need to leave Yttri alone for a few minutes to check.

He glances at the gun in the mechanic’s hand. “Silver said you’re good with that,” Simmons says, nodding toward the gun.

Yttri peeks back through the doorway and fires three shots in quick succession. Three training bots fall simultaneously, only to have their places in line filled by the many others.

“Okay,” Simmons says, eyes wide as he draws out the word. “I have a plan. I need you to hold them off for a few minutes while I go get something. Can you do that?” He hands her the stunner as he speaks.

“I’ll do what I can,” Yttri says uncertainly.

Simmons heads a little further into the base before turning back to her. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“You’ll come back,” she says, as though that’s answer enough. “I trust you. Just, hurry.”

Simmons nods before sprinting away.


	35. Rescues (Sort Of)

Yttri turns and starts shooting at the robots again. She tries to stay confident, tries to keep believing that Simmons will come through. She knows he’ll try. He doesn’t seem like the type to ever give up when he puts his mind to something. She just hopes he’ll be able to find a way to get them home.

A few moments later she hears an engine revving. Just from the sound she can tell that it’s a small vehicle, light and maneuverable. She hopes it’s also very, very fast. A second later Simmons rounds the corner from behind the base, driving a mongoose, and stops in front of Yttri.

“Way to go, cyborge!” Yttri cheers, hopping on behind him. She shoots a few more bots with the stunner before hooking it on her back and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Let’s go,” she whispers, relief evident in her voice. She can practically feel Simmons blushing as he revs the engine and they take off.

 

* * *

 

Sarge hooks the shotgun on his back before climbing into the hornet. He sits behind the machine gun, swiveling it to test the range.

“Just try to cut a path through the robots,” I tell him. Tinu hands me one of the battle rifles from the pelican, and I see that she and Wash are each holding their own. I had hoped we wouldn’t have to use anything more powerful than the stunners on this mission. I had only brought them for emergencies. Now I just hope we can avoid needing Doc, another precautionary measure, for anything. “They can’t aim up, so you should be safe, but Lopez knows to get you out of there if things get too hot,” I add, turning back to the man in red.

“Understood,” Sarge says happily, still studying the gun.

I step over to the front of the ship where I can see a brown robotic head wired into the controls. “You know what you’re supposed to do?” I ask.

“ _Fly over the robots, let the idiot shoot them, fly away if they shoot back,_ ” Lopez says in a voice that suggests, at most, boredom.

“Good to hear you’re as excited about the mission as I am, Lopez,” Sarge says sincerely.

There’s an audible sigh from the cockpit. _“Can I drop him when we’re done?_ ” Lopez asks.

I pretend to think it over for a moment as I check his ammo readouts. “No,” I decide, and the robot whispers something that I can’t make out. “Remember, we’re trying to rescue your teammate and the woman who gave you your new body,” I say warningly.

Lopez doesn’t respond, which I choose to take as understanding.

I turn back to Tinu and Washington. “Once there’s a path open, we’re going to run through as quickly as possible,” I explain. “These training bots turn slowly, and their aim isn’t great, so we shouldn’t have any problems if we’re quick.”

“We know,” Tinu says. “You’ve said it, like, five times. Let’s just get moving.”

Wash nods his agreement.

I turn my head to fully face Tinu. “Are you sure you’re up to this?” I ask. I eye the crack in her visor, a visual reminder of the possible concussion she may have suffered.

“To quote my doting older sister,” she says in a slightly teasing voice, “’I’m fine.’ Seriously, don’t worry about me. Let’s just get Yttri and that maroon guy back.”

I can’t help but spare a thought to marvel at how she can sound so light hearted even now. I’m sure she doesn’t know how much I rely on that optimism from her. Some days, I need her to remind me that we’re still allowed to smile, despite everything that’s happened.

“Alright,” I concede. “Lopez, get going.” The hornet’s engines buzz louder as he and Sarge take off.

I watch them go for a few seconds before following, Tinu and Wash close behind. _This will work_ , I think forcefully. _I know it will. It has to._

 

* * *

 

A small group of robots fade into view in front of the mongoose, causing Simmons to swerve drastically to avoid hitting them. Plasma bolts fly in their general direction, but none get close. Yttri starts to smile, despite the dangerous situation they’re in. It’s kind of fun, she decides; moving fast like this and feeling her stomach twist at every turn. She understands, for just a moment, why Tinu loves this type of thing so much.

Simmons swerves again, tilting the vehicle onto two wheels for a while before leveling out. _I was wrong. This is still terrible,_ Yttri thinks, tightening her grip on Simmons’ waist as she nearly falls off. “Don’t do that again,” she shouts over the sounds of battle.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Simmons calls out. His voice is strained to a high pitch and Yttri realizes after a moment that her hands resting on a part of his stomach where the under armor is exposed.

Yttri moves her hands back up to the metal armor, thinking he must not like to be touched. “Sorry,” she says, quiet enough that she thinks he might not hear.

“I-it’s fine,” Simmons responds. “Just ticklish.”

Yttri recognizes this as his embarrassed voice and tries her best not to laugh. Still, she can’t help the few chuckles that escape. She doesn’t know why she finds it so amusing; it just fits so well that her cyborge would be ticklish.

She also doesn’t know _why the fuck_ her brain is fixating on this when they’re being shot at. Yttri gives herself a mental slap on the head and tries to focus. There’s actual real, important stuff going on. She doesn’t need to be thinking about how Simmons would sound if he laughed.

Then, she hears a new sound, different from the mongoose’s engine and the constant pop of plasma blasts. Yttri smiles as she recognizes the drone of twin rotors. Sure enough, a moment later the hornet flies over the rock formation. Sarge shouts something incomprehensible from his seat behind the machine gun before he starts firing.

Sarge begins to cut a line through the training bots with a spray of bullets. Yttri sees three armored figures running toward them in the wake of the dead robots. Simmons steers toward them but slows when he sees the robots still separating him and Yttri from the others.

“Keep going,” Yttri instructs. She grips the seat of the mongoose as best she can with her legs before letting go of Simmons. Yttri raises the stunner and begins firing over Simmons shoulder. The bots in front of them fall with glowing plasma on their chests, and Simmons steers around the bodies.

Yttri glances up from her shooting for a moment to check Sarge and Lopez’s progress through the canyon. Her eyes land on the hornet just in time to see the rocket hit it.

“Sarge!” Simmons yells. He watches as the hornet crashes to the ground.

Yttri follows the faint smoke trail from the rocket to it source on the cliff side. She has no doubt Gold is hiding up there. She then turns her attention to the growing pillar of smoke from the crash site. “Go,” she says, pointing over Simmons’ shoulder. The maroon soldier nods and turns away from safety and toward his fallen teammates.

When they near the crashed pelican Yttri sees Sarge standing in front of the cockpit, firing his shotgun left and right. She hops off the mongoose, shoving the stunner into Simmons’ hands. “Help Sarge,” she says. “I’ll get Lopez.”

Simmons nods and sprints to Sarge’s side. He begins firing the stunner at any robots that get too close to the hornet. At the same time, Yttri climbs past the shattered glass into the cockpit.

Most of the wires connecting Lopez to the ship’s controls are disconnected due to the crash. Yttri carefully removes the last few. “Hey, robot,” she says, holding the head up for inspection. “You still alive?”

“ _I got hit by a rocket_ ,” he answers.

“Don’t be such a baby. Your core programming is still intact. We just have to start over on finding you a new body.”

“ _Typical_ ,” Lopez mutters.

Yttri pokes her head out of the hornet. “Cyborge!” she calls. Simmons steps over and she tosses down Lopez. “Take our friend and get him to the other side of the canyon,” she instructs before disappearing back into the cockpit.

Simmons juggles the head for a moment before getting a good grip on it. “Wait, what about you?” he calls up.

“Working on something,” the muffled reply comes from within the ship. “All robots and cyborges I don’t want fried should be at a safe distance before I do it, though.”

“What are you going to do?”

“She’s gonna overload the engines and create an emp,” Sarge says between shotgun blasts.

Yttri’s head pops back out of the ship. “That’s… surprisingly correct,” she says in a mildly shocked voice. She disappears back into the ship before adding, “Though, it’s pronounced E.M.P, not emp.”

“I should stay here,” Simmons says, still shooting robots.

“Nope,” Yttri says. “The E.M.P will shut down your artificial organs. You should be out of range before I set it off.”

“I’m supposed to protect you,” Simmons points out.

“Sarge can handle that,” Yttri says dismissively.

“But-“ Simmons starts.

Yttri looks out from inside the wreckage. “You already helped me thought the tough part,” she says matter-of-factly. “I can handle this. It’s what I do. But I need to know you’ll be safe first.”

Simmons stands there for a moment, seeming like he’ll argue, before nodding. He straps Lopez to the back of the mongoose and fires a few more shots at the attacking bots before hopping on. He looks at Sarge as he starts the engine. “Keep her safe,” he says. The older man nods while reloading. Simmons spares one last glance toward the ship before driving away.

“Alright, now that that’s out of the way, it’s time to get to work,” Yttri mutters. She starts pulling out and rearranging wires at lightning speed.

“Need any help in there, little lady?” Sarge’s voice drifts into the ship.

Yttri quirks an eyebrow at the term. She’s fairly certain no one’s ever called her that before, and for good reason. This guy’s asking for a wrench in the face. “You’re the one who gave Simmons his robot parts, right?” she asks, remembering something the cyborge had mentioned.

“Yep,” Sarge says happily. “Simmons 2.0 is one of my best works yet.”

“In that case, I think I’m good on my own in here,” Yttri says. “You just focus on shooting those bots, old man.”

Sarge grumbles something back, but it’s lost in the sound of a shotgun blast.

Yttri smiles while she works. She has a feeling that maybe, if she overlooks the man’s outdated mechanic techniques, she could start to like Sarge.


	36. From Bad to Worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning: things get a little bloody here.

Tinu, Wash, and I stand back to back in the midst of our attackers. We were surrounded within seconds of the hornet going down. I worry for a moment for Sarge’s safety, but the constant thunder of his shotgun puts my mind at ease. If he’s still fighting, then he’s probably ok.

“We need to get out of here,” Wash says, firing expertly within a one hundred twenty degree angle to keep his section of the circle covered.

Tinu’s helmet is on the ground next to her empty gun, and she bares her teeth at the robots. “I’m open to any suggestions,” she shouts over the sound of the battle. One of the robots makes the mistake of getting too close to her and pays with an arm.

The air is filled with thin blue lines as Rho continues to highlight the path of plasma blasts, showing me when to dodge and duck between them. I could do it myself. My reaction time is good enough to dodge plasma, but letting her do this part allows me to focus on my aim. I need to focus. With only one pistol, I’ve resorted to throwing daggers with my left hand just to stay ahead of the robots, but I’m quickly losing the lead. Worse still, the knives aren’t working very effectively against these particular opponents. I need a weapon with an electrical component.

Suddenly I remember something and prep a grenade. “Run to the ship,” I order, throwing the grenade between us and the wreckage. The grenade goes off with an explosion of mechanical stopping electricity, courtesy of Yttrium, and we sprint through the gap in the enemy’s ranks.

When we reach the ship, Yttri’s climbing out of the cockpit. She looks at us as she jumps to the ground. “What are you guys doing here?” she asks, sounding surprised.

Tinu, Wash, and I line up next to Sarge and start shooting. Sarge grunts and nods at us while he reloads.

“We were trying to rescue you,” Tinu starts, “then something went wrong.”

“Where’s Simmons?” Wash asks.

“Hopefully, minimum safe distance,” Yttri answers.

“Safe distance from what?” I ask. “What’s going on?”

Yttri shoots a robot that managed to get behind us before answering. “Give it a second,” is all she says as she reloads the pistol. I’m surprised by how well she’s handling this situation, but I’m glad. It’s nice to see Yttri being herself while on a battlefield again.

After a moment, there’s a large flash of light. The robots stop in their tracks. There’s a moment of stunned silence, which is broken by Sarge.

“You call that an explosion?” the older man challenges.

“No, I call it an electromagnetic pulse,” Yttri says haughtily.

“You said you were gonna overload the engine,” Sarge accuses. “That should’ve caused an explosion.”

“If this were a normal engine that ran on regular fuels, sure,” Yttri says dismissively, holstering her pistol. “This is my engine.”

“And I suppose that means it runs on rainbows and unicorns,” Sarge says in a girly voice.

Yttri’s fists clench at her sides. “It runs on cold fusion and zero point energy,” she says through grit teeth.

“Ooh,” Doc marvels, sprinting up to meet us. “Very environmentally friendly. I like it.”

“I would have gone with the fact that it’s cheap and efficient,” Yttri says, “but sure. Whatever you say.”

I back away from the conversation as Sarge continues to argue, following Tinu to where she’d left her helmet. She tsks at the crack in the visor before putting it back on. I start inspecting one of the robots. There’s no way Dr. Han has the funds to buy an army like this, not with how much we’ve stolen from her. She must have gotten these some other way. I peel back a piece of secondary armor from one’s shoulder and see an insignia. It’s familiar, but it takes me a moment to place it.

“The Federation of Chorus?” I whisper. It’s surprising that Gold would be using their robots in his ambush. I’ve read that they have more resources than the struggling New Republic, but I doubt they have enough to not notice a theft of this magnitude. That, or mom’s made a deal. Either way, someone on this planet probably knows we’re here. I decide it’s time we get moving.

And maybe when this is all over I’ll take a closer look into this civil war.

I sprint back over to where Sarge and Yttri are still having their ‘discussion’, with Doc acting as mediator. I wave them both into silence. “Head back to the ship,” I order. “We need to get off planet.”

Yttri starts to protest, arguing that we could salvage supplies from these bots while we’re here. I’m about to argue when Wash speaks up.

“Silver’s right,” he says. “This wasn’t exactly the quiet skirmish we’d planned for. The people on this planet probably know we’re here now. We should clear out before there’s more trouble.”

Yttri grudgingly accepts the explanation and starts walking back toward the side of the canyon where we left the pelican. After a moment, she activates her radio. “Hey, Cyborge, you out there?” she asks.

“Yes,” Simmons’ reply filters in through my helmet’s speakers. “Lopez and I are at the pelican.”

“Good,” Yttri says, and I think I hear relief in her voice. “Any bots get missed by the blast?”

“A few,” Simmons admits, “but I took care of them.”

“Awesome job, Cyborge,” Yttri says. “We’ll meet you there in a few minutes.” Once she’s done speaking she deactivates her radio.

Tinu’s voice is bordering on teasing when she speaks up. “Nice to see you’ve made a friend,” she comments.

“It’s easy when I find someone who’s actually competent,” Yttri grumbles back.

“I have a feeling you think he’s way more than just competent,” Tinu giggles.

Yttri manages to imply an eye roll even though she’s wearing a helmet. “I think you’re over-thinking things.”

“Not according to Nick,” Tinu says in a sing song voice.

“Nick’s an even bigger gossip than you when he feels like it,” Yttri complains. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

I smile while listening to their bickering until Rho speaks up. “We’ve got an incoming transmission from deep space,” she says, avatar appearing on my shoulder. “It’s a little staticy, but I’ll try to clean it up.”

A few seconds later, Ruth’s panicked voice is in my ears. “Silver, we’re under attack,” she starts, and I feel my heart stop. “They’re everywhere! Nick’s tying to hold them off, but…” The sentence trails away in the sound of an explosion. “Oh no, not again! You need to get back here, now! Please, Silver, hurry! Come home!” The transmission ends abruptly with the sound of another explosion.

“Silver?” Rho says cautiously.

I look up and realize that everyone’s watching me. They all heard it too. Our home is under attack. “Move,” I order as I run for the ship.

No one speaks when we reach the pelican. I can see in their body language that they’re all worried. They’re all feeling the same dread that I am. I run to the pilot’s seat and don’t bother to check if everyone’s strapped in before starting up the engines, taking off in record breaking time.

“I’m sure they’re alright,” Wash says part way through the flight. It’s only now that I notice he’s sitting in the copilot’s seat, allowing him to talk to me without the rest of the ship hearing. “Nick’s there, as well as Tucker and Grif and plenty of others. Everything will be fine.”

I grunt unconvincedly. My mind keeps turning to the worst case scenarios. If the UNSC have found us, then they could all be captured before I get there. If it’s the Covenant, they might not even bother with capture. And if it’s Gold, if he somehow got there before us… I don’t let myself finish the thought. Mom has no need to take prisoners.

 

* * *

 

The hangar doors are closed when we get there. Rho sends a message to the base’s main computers while I radio Nick. He doesn’t answer. The doors only open from the inside. I made sure to have Yttri rig them that way, so no one but us could get in. I never thought I’d be in a situation where no one would be available to open them.

After a few more moments the doors begin to open. There’s another ship in the hangar, a large alien looking vessel that I don’t recognize, and I land us next to it. The landing gear’s barely touched down before I’m running to the back of the ship. The ramp can’t seem to go down fast enough, and I find myself tapping my foot impatiently.

I see Tinu at my side, as impatient as I am. I know she’s worried about Nick. She heard me radio him, and she knows he didn’t respond. She can’t help but fear the worst.

The ramp’s finally down and we step out of the ship. To my relief, I see Nick standing with someone else at the other end of the hangar. I don’t recognize who’s with him. It takes half a second too long for me to realize that Nick’s fighting the mystery person. In that half second, disaster strikes.

There’s a tearing sound which is quickly drowned out by Nick’s shout, and he falls in a shower of blood. “Nick!” Tinu screams and runs toward him. I lift my pistol and aim a shot at his attacker, but whoever it is moves too quickly. They run to the door, and all I can register is blond hair before they’re gone. I don’t even get a chance to fire. I lower the gun and run to join Tinu at Nick’s side.

I’m shouting for Doc before I even comprehend what I’m seeing. I block a lot f it out, refusing to look. I don’t look at Nick’s arm, lying on the ground much too far away from his body. I try not to see just how much blood is on the ground as I press my hands to the wound on his shoulder. Tinu is still standing by his feet, staring down at Nick’s face as it grows paler. I try to tell her to help me but the words don’t come. Then she turns and runs to the door where his attacker disappeared. I try to shout for her to come back but scream Doc’s name instead.

“Si,” Nick whispers. He’s so quiet I can barely hear him over the rush of blood in my ears. I force myself to stop screaming and strain to hear his voice. “Not us,” Nick says. He’s so pale, the blood pooling on his right side stealing the color from his skin. I find it hard to hear his words as I stare at him. He reaches up with his left hand ( _his only hand_ , a part of my mind whispers, and I try to tune it out) and grabs mine, forcing me to focus. “They’re not us,” he repeats, voice growing stronger even as his grip weakens. “Si, you have to…” he trails off in a ragged breath.

“I’m here,” I say, trying to hold his hand to mine, not acknowledging how his grip has slackened. “I’m right here. You’re gonna be fine.” His hand slips out of mine and I lose it.

“Doc!” I scream so loud my throat hurts but I don’t care. The ship’s only a few dozen yards away. How is he not here yet? “Doc, please! I need your help!”

And then he’s there, kneeling beside me with his medical bag. His helmet’s off and for the first time since we met, Doc doesn’t look nervous. He looks determined. He pulls a pouch out of his bag and begins to spray liquid foam over the injury. I know this stuff. It’s supposed to disinfect the wound and harden to stop bleeding. I’ve seen it used before. It doesn’t seem to be working this time, though. There’s too much blood and the foam begins to dissolve immediately after it hardens.

“No no no,” Doc murmurs, dropping the pouch of foam and pulling thick handfuls of gauze from his bag. He places them over the injury and moves my hands to cover it. “Keep pressure here,” he instructs. I nod and press down on the quickly reddening gauze.

“Can’t make a tourniquet,” Doc mutters. “Not enough of the arm left. I need something…”

“Here,” Wash says. He hands down the strap used to carry his gun, and Doc grabs it without a word. He quickly wraps it around Nick’s shoulders, pushing my hands out of the way to pull it tight.

After a few moments, Nick’s bleeding slows. “I think he’ll be okay,” Doc says. “He’s lost a lot of blood, and he’s still not out of the woods, and we can’t risk moving him yet, but he’s stable. For now.”

I nod thankfully. I want to stay here with Nick until he’s ready to move. I want to stay by his side until I know he’ll recover. But I can’t. I need to find out what’s going on here. I stand, albeit a little shakily, and step away from the bloody scene on the floor. I need to distance myself from it. I need to focus on something else right now.

I turn and face Wash. “Let’s get to the bottom of this.”


	37. Copies

I scan the hangar again. Smoke pours in from a door opposite the one Tinu ran through, and I can hear small explosions and weapons fire from that direction. I move toward the door, then stop when I see movement from inside. I raise my pistol and hear the click as Wash turns off the safety on his battle rifle. Simmons, still standing near the ramp of the pelican, raises the stunner and steps in front of Yttri.

There are a few tense seconds as everyone waits to see what will happen.

Ruth runs through the door, followed by Beryl and Moly and various others. They spill out onto the floor, coughing, and Grif runs in after, urging them forward. I sprint up to them, checking each of the kids for injuries before turning to Grif. "What's going on?" I ask.

Grif hunches over and coughs from the smoke, despite his helmet which should have filtered the air. "We're under attack," he says. "They set bombs outside the mess hall. That whole side of the base is on fire."

Yttri's eyes widen when she hears this. "My lab!" she exclaims, lunging toward the door. Simmons manages to hook an arm around her waist to stop her. "Let me go, Cyborge," she snaps, trying to pull away.

"No, Yttri, you can't go in there." Simmons pulls Yttri back as she continues to struggle, turning her away from the door. "It's already gone. You can't do anything."

Yttri continues pulling toward the door for a few seconds before giving up. She pushes his arm away with a huff and faces deliberately away from the smoking door. Her eyes fix on the mystery ship and she walks toward it purposefully. "Come on. Let's figure out what this thing is." Simmons hesitates for a second before following.

"Who's attacking?" Wash asks Grif.

The orange man shakes his head. "I don't know. I haven't actually seen any of them. All I know is the base started blowing up and people started running around screaming. I tried to get as many people out as I could."

Ruth starts climbing to her feet and Grif offers a hand to help her. "Computer," she croaks, pointing to the panel on the wall by the smoking door. Grif helps her walk over to it and she starts typing furiously. "I need to seal off the base," she explains, "stop the fire from spreading."

"Is anyone still in there?" I ask.

Grif shakes his head. "Donut and Nick were in the training room with the kids. Everyone else was either in the barracks on the other side of the base, or in the mess hall with me. I got everyone out of there."

"What about Tucker and Caboose?" Wash asks.

Grif considers this for a second. "I think Tucker was near the training room, too. One of the kids was begging him to show off the sword again. As for Caboose… I think he was in the infirmary again."

There's a thunk as the door shuts, followed by a click. "Door's sealed," Ruth announces. "I also sent a message through the base's speakers telling everyone to meet up here."

"Good," I tell her. "Now see if you can help Doc with the wounded." Ruth nods and sprints to the medic's side.

A moment later people begin to filter into the hangar from all directions. Most run in with terrified expressions, while others help lead their younger, wounded siblings to safety. Rhodi walks in without a word, dragging a confused and bandaged Caboose behind him, and immediately starts helping Doc with triage.

Donut runs in from a door on the far side of the hangar, a young girl with a broken leg in his arms. He stumbles in his haste, nearly falling over before regaining his balance. A second later I see what he's running from. A man with a gun follows Donut through the door. I aim my pistol at the man but he charges forward and tackles Donut before I can fire. The girl, Tin, crawls away as Donut rolls over and kicks up at his attacker. The mystery man stands up and points his gun at the lightish red helmet.

Donut flinches at the sound of a pistol firing. It takes him a moment to register that he isn't hurt. He looks up and sees the hole in his attacker's forehead before the man falls. I holster my gun as I walk toward the body.

Donut's already on his feet and helping Tin up by the time I reach them. "Are you two okay?" I ask.

Tin nods while Donut shakes his head. "Her leg's broken," he explains.

I point toward Doc and Rhodi. "Triage is over there. They'll do what they can to help."

Once they're gone, I inspect the body. He appears to be in his early to mid twenties, and is wearing what looks like a cheap knock-off of Mjolnir armor. More surprising than his age or clothing, however, is his face. I gasp and step back when I see it. The green eyes, curly blond hair, and light dusting of freckles are all too familiar. It's Iodine.

"No," I whisper, shaking my head. It can't be him. Iodine's just a boy, he's only fourteen. This can't be him. Still, the face is so similar, nearly identical, that I know it can't be a coincidence.

I turn away from the body and scan the steadily forming crowd. I don't see Iodine anywhere, but I do see his partner. Beryllium is sitting on the ground, arms wrapped around knees which are pulled up to her chest, an unfocused look on her soot covered, tear stained face. I crouch next to her and place a hand on her shoulder. "Beryl," I say gently. Her eyes snap up to meet mine, but I'm not sure if she recognizes me. "Have you seen Iodine?" I ask. She sniffs and nods, pointing at Rhodium. He's fixing an oxygen mask on someone and I see a flash of blond hair. "Thanks," I say, patting her on the shoulder again.

I stand and walk to Rhodi. Sure enough, Iodine is lying on the ground with a gash on his forehead that Rhodi's trying to bandage. "What is going on?" I whisper to myself.

Rhodi glances up and notices the confused expression on my face. "Let me guess," he says. "That guy you shot over there was Iodine, wasn't it?" I nod. Rhodi sighs and wipes a hand across his forehead. "I don't know how she did it, but I think mom made copies of us. I shot my own copy earlier when he attacked the infirmary."

"How many are there?" I ask.

Rhodi shakes his head. "I don't know, but I'd guess there's one for each of us." He moves away from Iodine and gets to work on the next patient.

"If they look like us," I muse out loud, "how do we tell them apart from ourselves?"

"They're all the same age," Donut offers. He's helping put a splint on Tin's leg under Doc's instruction, but he glances our way to contribute to the conversation. "A little older than Tinu, but still younger than you."

"And they're all wearing white armor," Rhodi adds.

I nod. I'm certain there'll still be a few seconds delay if I run into any of these copies, but at least I can recognize them. I know I should let Rhodi concentrate, but there's one last thing I need to ask him.

"How many of us are still missing?" I ask. I know by now he must have already been through the room a few times, so he'll know if anyone isn't here.

"I haven't seen Tinu around," he says, kneeling and shining a light in Sulfur's eyes to check for a concussion. "And the kids are still missing."

"You haven't seen them anywhere?" My voice is pleading, despite my efforts to keep it steady.

Rhodi shakes his head, and his carefully professional voice slips for a moment. "I'm sorry, Si."

I nod and step away, leaving him to his work. I wander over to the ship where Yttri and Simmons are.

"What's the plan?" Yttri asks without glancing up from her inspection.

"The base isn't safe," I say eventually. "Mom found us here. We need to leave."

"We won't all fit in the pelican," Yttri informs me.

"That's why we're taking this ship." Yttri finally looks up at me, and I almost laugh at the shock on her face. "Give it a thorough check, make sure there isn't some sort of a tracking device on it," I instruct.

Yttri just shakes her head and turns back to the ship. It looks like some sort of alien transport vessel, designed to hold a lot of people. "I'll be interested to see who's flying it," she remarks.

That stops me. Nick and I are the only ones who know how to fly. A few of the others have had some training, but nothing I would trust with a long flight like this.

"I'll do it," Grif's voice rings out from behind me.

I whip around to face him. "You can fly this thing?" I ask skeptically.

"Uh, I could probably figure it out?" he offers. "I mean, I figured out how to fly a pelican once, and I don't have any training for that."

"We crashed that time," Simmons reminds him.

I glance between him and the new ship a few times before looking back at our usual ship. "How about you fly the pelican, and I'll take care of this one," I counter.

"Works for me," Grif says.

Yttri laughs. "Dibs on a seat in the pelican," she says, eyeing Grif distrustfully. "For me and the cyborge," she adds as an afterthought.

Grif and Simmons share a look before the orange man gets dragged over to triage by Donut.

"It'll take a little while to make sure this ship is safe to fly," Yttri says.

"That's fine," I say distractedly. "I need to find Tinu and the kids, anyway."

"And Tucker," Wash says, stepping up beside me. "He still hasn't made it back to the hangar."

"Right," I nod. "I'll find all of them, bring them back here, and then we'll leave." I start walking toward the door Tinu left through.

Wash jogs along beside me. "I'm coming with you," he says, tone leaving no room for argument.

I decide to argue anyway. "I need someone here who I know can fight," I explain. He starts to protest and I stop, turning to face him. "Please," I say, placing a hand on his chest to stop him from moving forward. "Stay here and protect the wounded."

"Will you be okay in there alone?" he asks, professionalism slipping from his tone for the briefest of moments.

I smile, even though he can't see it. "I've lived in this base for almost a year. I think I can find my way around it better than some poorly made copies."

"Even if she can't, I can," Rho pipes up. "We'll be fine."

Wash nods and places a hand on my shoulder. "Be safe," he orders gently. He turns and walks away before I can respond.

I can feel Rho's curiosity spike at the gesture, but ignore it. I have more important things to think about right now. I turn back to the door and sprint through it, drawing my pistol as I go. My family comes first. I'll pretend to not think about Wash later.


	38. Too Close

The base is eerily quiet as I jog through the halls. Normally there’d be people everywhere, the low drone of their conversations filling the silence. Now, there’s nothing. Well, nothing except for the far off explosions and gunfire that cause my heart to skip. Every time I hear them, I think that one of my siblings could be dead.

I need to find them fast.

I have no idea where Tinu is. She chased after Nick’s attacker, and now she could be anywhere. The kids I have a better chance with, though. Grif said they were in the training room with Tucker. That’s as good a place as any to start looking.

I try my best to avoid the groups of copies stalking through the halls. It’s disconcerting, to see people so similar to my family, and yet so different. I follow a group of three for a while, hoping to get some sort of information from them. They don’t talk. After a few minutes, I begin to wonder if they can speak at all. I’ve had my suspicions about them for a while, and how mo could have made them.

I doubt she had a separate base like ours all these years, where she could have raised these copies. I would have noticed something like that. She must have made them recently, and accelerated their aging so they’d be ready to attack. That’s what has me concerned.

After Nick turned out stable, mom had tried making a batch that would age even faster than him. It had been disastrous. The accelerated aging had caused problems in mental development, making them almost impossible to train. They had aged quickly, growing to near adulthood in a matter of months, but they’d ultimately proved useless to mom. I still doubt her claims that they had suddenly destabilized. It’s too convenient that every time an experiment had failed, the subjects had mysteriously died.

If my suspicions about these copies are true, it means she got past the mental problems caused by the process. That, or she has some way of controlling them. Either way, it’s the only explanation that fits with how these people got here.

I sneak past this group and head toward the training room. I hear gunshots around the corner and rush toward the sound, praying to gods and technology and slimy things at the bottom of oceans that I won’t be too late. When I round the corner, I see Tinu and… Tinu.

One of the blondes is wearing cheap white armor and holding a pistol, hair pulled back into an immaculate bun. The other, who I recognize as the real Platinum, is in bright purple Hayabasu armor and looks much more disheveled, hair from a loose ponytail falling into her eyes and dirt and sweat smeared on her face. She charges unarmed at the copy, teeth bared. The copy sidesteps the attack, allowing Tinu to run past her, and aims the pistol at her back.

I throw a dagger that imbeds itself in the copy’s elbow joint. She jerks her arm up as she fires, missing Tinu by inches. The copy turns to me and snarls. I pull my gun and aim at it.

“Get out of here,” Tinu snaps, tackling the copy. I spend a few seconds trying to aim before giving up. I can’t shoot without risking hitting Tinu as well.

“Tinu, back up!” I shout.

“No,” she punctuates by driving her wrist into the copy’s nose, spraying blood across its face. “This is my fight.”

“Tinu…” I start, wanting to argue. Honestly, I can understand how she feels. There’ve been too many times when I’ve wanted to take a fight on my own. I can’t risk that here, though. Tinu and her copy are too evenly matched. I can’t guarantee she’ll win.

“She hurt Nick,” Tinu says, voice dangerously low. “I’m going to kill this bitch.”

The copy kicks Tinu off, sending her flying back a few feet. I run forward and kick its wrist before it can stand, knocking the gun away. The copy growls at me and jumps to her feet. It aims a punch at me and I grab its wrist. I try to yank its arm behind its back, but the copy’s stronger than me and it doesn’t budge. Still, I manage to keep it from moving. Tinu tries to attack the copy from behind while I hold it, but it fends her off with a backward kick.

The copy uses her free hand to pull something off her armor; a small metallic disc I don’t recognize. She presses it to my chest and before I can react there’s electricity coursing through me. I let go of the copy and stagger back, clawing at the thing on my chest. Within a few seconds my arms begin to slow.

“Rho, what’s happening?” I ask, trying to force my sluggish limbs to move.

“Your armor’s going into lockdown,” she says, voice jumpy and fractured. “I’m trying to stop it, but I might have to reboot.” By the time she finishes speaking, I can’t move at all.

The copy turns its back to me once I’m immobilized and faces Tinu. They both charge for the gun on the ground. “Do what you have to,” I tell Rho, “just get me moving.” I feel Rho’s agreement like seeing a nod out of the corner of my eye. A second later, my HUD goes dark.

My eyes take a moment to adjust to seeing through the clear visor without all the readouts. When they do, I see Tinu standing over the copy, gun in hand. Her eyes are full of rage as she glares down at it, this thing that looks like her but isn’t her, this monster that tried to kill her brother. And yet, she hesitates. None of us have been trained for this. How do you stomach the fact that you’re shooting yourself?

The copy takes advantage of the hesitation and sweeps Tinu’s legs out from under her. Tinu jumps back up quickly and steps out of range, placing her back against a wall. The copy climbs to its feet. Its back is to me, and I can see it holding a grenade out of Tinu’s sight.

“Look out!” I shout, too late, as the copy hurls the grenade toward my sister.

Tinu ducks and rolls forward and the grenade flies past her into the wall. It explodes on impact. The wall begins to fall, concrete and rebar giving way under the force of the blast.

“Explosions throughout the base must have weakened structural integrity,” Rho whispers in a distracted tone that suggests she doesn’t realize she’s speaking.

Tinu scrambles forward, hoping to get out of the way of the falling debris. She isn’t fast enough, however, and gets pinned under a pile of rubble, gun knocked from her hand. The copy laughs as it stalks toward her.

“Rho,” I say pleadingly.

“I’m working on it,” she says, anticipating my request.

“Work faster,” I beg, straining against dead armor in the blind hope that I’ll suddenly be able to move. The armor’s too heavy. It won’t move, no matter how much I strain. I won’t be able to do anything until Rho reactivates the hydraulics.

The copy bends down and retrieves its gun from the floor. Tinu glares up at it, pushing up against the rubble until her face turns red. It doesn’t budge. The copy slowly climbs on top of the pile and Tinu winces under the added weight. I’ve stopped breathing. It reaches the top and looks at me for a moment before pointing the gun down at Tinu’s head. I see the finger move to hover over the trigger, see the muscles in its hand flex as it begins to apply pressure. I’m screaming, begging to be able to do something, trapped inside my armor as this thing prepares to kill my sister. I can’t move, I can’t breathe, I can’t _do_ anything except cry in frustration and fear.

Suddenly, two points of light emerge from the copy’s chest. It looks shocked for a moment before the lights disappear and it falls to the ground, revealing Tucker holding his sword. He climbs down off the debris and starts pulling the rubble to the side. “Are you okay?” he asks, glancing my way.

I gasp in relief, finally able to breathe. “Fine,” I say, struggling to think as the terror fades. “My armor’s rebooting.”

Tucker nods and continues digging. By the time Rho has my armor working again, Tinu’s standing and dusting herself off. I walk over to them and hug Tinu without thinking. “Don’t scare me like that again,” I say, voice breaking. I squeeze her tightly, assuring myself that she is in fact here, that she is alive.

“Sorry,” she says, wincing.

I pull back and study her face. “Are you hurt?” I ask concernedly.

“Fine,” she grunts, trying to conceal a limp as she backs up.

“Wrong,” Rho says, displaying Tinu’s vitals on my HUD. There’s a basic human outline, flashing red on the left ankle and right shoulder. “She has a dislocated shoulder and her ankle’s fractured.”

“I can still fight,” Tinu insists.

“No, you can’t,” I say as kindly as I can. “Tucker, can you take her back to the hangar?”

“Sure thing,” Tucker says, trying to wrap an arm around her waist to help her walk. Tinu pushes him away with her good arm. It seems like a practiced move, and I wonder how often she’s had cause to push him away like this.

“Si, come on, let me help,” Tinu says.

I shake my head. “You need to go be with Nick.”

Tinu’s eyes tear up at the mention of the name. “I can’t,” she whispers, shaking her head. “I can’t see him like that.”

“Nick would want you there,” Tucker points out. Tinu looks at him in silence for a second before nodding numbly. She starts limping down the hall toward the hangar.

Tucker tries to follow her but I grab his arm. “Thank you,” I say, once he’s facing me. The words seem so meaningless to me. They can’t express how I really feel, how grateful I am that he saved Tinu, saved me from my worst nightmare.

“Don’t mention it,” he says dismissively. “I’ve always wanted to save a damsel in distress.” I can hear the grin in his voice as easily as I hear Tinu’s snort of derision from up ahead.

“Still,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder, hoping sincerity will win out where words fail. “Thanks.”

Tucker nods before stiffening suddenly, his nonchalant stance shifting into concern. “Did the kids make it back to the hangar yet?” he asks.

“No,” I answer. “Last I heard, Grif said they were with you.”

“We were in the training room when we got attacked,” Tucker explains. “I told the kids to run. I thought they would have made it there by now.”

“Which direction did they go?”

Tucker thinks for a moment before answering. “They left through the door to the right of the screens in the training room,” he says.

Rho brings up a map of the base and starts estimating paths they could have taken. “Okay,” I say. “I’ll find them. Head to the hangar with Tinu.”

Tucker nods and sprints down the hall after the injured blonde.

I make my way to the training room, agreeing with Rho that it’s the best place to start looking. Luckily, the giant hole Tinu’s copy blew in the wall serves as a good shortcut.

The training room looks more like a battle ground than usual. Bodies cover the floor, some marred with scorch marks from overcharged stun guns while others have the distinctive slashes and puncture marks of an energy sword. I recognize Zinc, Oxygen, Gallium, Arsenic, Tungsten, and many others.

I force myself to look away. It’s not really them. These aren’t my siblings. I shouldn’t feel anything for them.

“This is messed up,” Rho comments, studying one of the bodies. I glance down and realize it’s Rubi, but a much older version of her. My stomach twists at the sight of a cauterized gash across her chest.

“Come on,” I say, turning away. “Let’s go.” I walk toward the exit, trying my best not to look at the floor.

I sneak through the halls, trying to find the proper balance between speed and stealth as Rho guesses which direction they could have gone. After what feels like hours but according to Rho is really only minutes, a scream pierces through the halls. “Lico!” I recognize the voice and run in its direction, heedless of stealth or caution. “Franc! Help!”

“That’s Rubi’s voice,” Rho says, sounding panicky.

I nod, not bothering to speak as I run faster than I’ve ever gone before. I’ve never heard Rubi scream like that, not even when she has nightmares. I may not have heard this from her before, but I recognize a shout of pain when I hear it. She must be hurt. I have to get to her before it’s too late.


	39. Silicon

Smoke fills the air, cutting down on visibility. Franc has an arm around Rubi’s back, trying to help her navigate the debris strewn halls. She limps heavily, favoring her left leg, which drips blood. Silicon walks backward behind them, glancing through the smoke with panicky eyes with his stun gun held at the ready.

Rubi stumbles and nearly falls, but Franc catches her. The silent boy makes frantic gestures with his free hand, and Rubi nods.

“Franc says we need to turn left to get to the hangar,” she translates.

“Okay,” Silicon agrees. He watches the smoke for a long moment, before finally turning away, sprinting to catch up with his siblings. He stands on Rubi’s other side and lets her put an arm on his shoulder, taking more weight off her leg. The trio limp forward as fast as they can manage, Franc glancing around frantically, Rubi’s eyes fixed determinedly on her feet, and Silicon scanning the hall ahead.

They reach a fork in the hall and turn left, only to be greeted by a group of five copies. The copies spot the kids instantly and run toward them. Silicon slips Rubi’s arm off his shoulder and pushes her and Franc backward down the hall. “Run,” he says, raising his stun gun as he faces the copies.

Silicon fires at the closest copy, eyes fixed on its chest to avoid recognizing the face. The energy blasts slow it down, but don’t stop it. He dodges to the side as it finally reaches him, barely ducking under its arms. Another copy reaches him and he smacks its hands away before turning to run.

He catches up with Franc and Rubi and once again grabs his sister’s arm to help her run. She nearly trips as Silicon and Franc drag her forward, but manages to stay on her feet. Silicon hears feet pounding behind them as the copies give chase. They’re catching up.

All three kids duck as bullets fly past them.

“We need to get Rubi out of here,” Silicon says. Franc nods his agreement.

Lico looks ahead and sees a wall of rubble blocking the hall. He tries to stay calm as he spins around, looking for an exit. There’s an open door a little further down the hall and he leads Rubi and Franc toward it. They step into an empty lab. Silicon’s heart sinks when he realizes there’s no way out of here. He closes the door and presses the button to lock it, knowing it won’t hold.

“Over here,” he says, directing Rubi to sit in a corner where she’s partially hidden behind a table.

“Lico,” she whispers, looking up at him with scared eyes. “Are they gonna find us?”

Silicon wants to tell her no, but he can’t lie to her. She’s always been able to see through that. Instead, he tries to sound more confident than he feels. “We’ll fight them off,” he assures her. “Try to shoot them with your stun gun if they get too close, but stay here. Franc and I will try to handle this.” Franc climbs on top of the table and nods down at her before turning toward the door and raising his gun, already holding the trigger down to overcharge it. Silicon turns around and does the same.

There’s a loud bang as something hits the door. The door begins to shake under multiple impacts. Silicon raises his gun and looks down the sights. He’s afraid, of course he is, but he tries to hide it. Franc and Rubi are already scared enough. They don’t need to see that he is, too. He wants to be brave, like Silver. Pretending is the best he can do.

 

* * *

 

I hear the crash of a door being kicked open and wheel around the corner at top speed. I see a group of copies at the end of the hall and hear the crackling pop of a stun gun firing. It’s answered by real guns. I lose sight of most of the copies as they push through the doorway. I shoot one without thinking, refusing to register the blue hair or connect a name to the familiar face.

I run through the door. Two of the copies are attacking Silicon while another is trying to shoot Franc, who keeps dodging. The last copy has managed to grab Rubi by the hair and is trying to drag her out of the corner. I step up behind the copy and grab the sides of its head, snapping it to the side before letting go. The copy slumps to the ground.

I turn away from Rubi and point my gun at the copy attacking Franc. He kicks its chest and it staggers back a few feet, giving me the opening I need to fire. Once the copy falls, Franc jumps down off the table and jumps on one of the copies fighting Silicon. I run to help and a few minutes later the copies are dead.

Silicon looks from me to the bodies and back again. “Silver?” he asks, fear and relief warring in his voice. He looks at me like he’s not sure who I am or if he can trust me.

“It’s me,” I assure him. I reach out to ruffle his hair, like I always do, but he backs out of my reach. Franc and Rubi have moved to stand behind him. They both stare at me with distrust.

“You found us earlier,” Rubi says, barely managing to keep her voice steady. “You and Nick. We thought you were going to help us, but you - you shot at us. We had to run, because we knew we couldn’t fight you.”

I nod in understanding. That certainly explains their fear. “That wasn’t me,” I explain. “That was a copy, something mom made. I’m real.” I crouch down on one knee in front of them. “Lico, look at me,” I say. The boy’s eyes meet mine, full of confusion and worry. “It’s me,” I say again, reaching out to touch his shoulder. At the touch he lunges forward, grabbing me in a tight hug as he suppresses a sob.

“It’s okay,” I say, hugging him back. Franc and Rubi join in and I try my best to wrap my arms around all three of them. “I won’t let them hurt you. You’ll be okay, now.”

“I was scared,” Silicon whispers ashamedly. “I tried not to be. I tried to be like you, but I couldn’t.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being afraid,” I say, kissing the top of his head. “You didn’t let it control you, and you kept your team safe. That’s all I ever do.” I let go and they back up to a more comfortable distance as I stand.

“You always make it look so easy,” Lico says accusingly, as though I’ve somehow tricked him. I catch the mischievous glint in his eyes, something he learned from Nick. I smile, glad he’s able to bounce back to his usual self so quickly.

“That’s a leader’s job,” I say. “We make hard work look easy, and hard decisions even easier.”

“’We’?” Silicon asks hopefully.

“Of course.” I reach down to ruffle his hair, and this time he doesn’t pull away. “You’ve always been a natural leader.”

Silicon smiles at the praise before walking toward the door. “Come on,” he says, pulling my hand after him. “We need to get back to the rest of the family.”

I nod agreement, but stop when I hear a noise. Footsteps approach from down the hall, quickly getting louder. I push Silicon behind me and draw my gun again. Silicon mimics the action, holding his stun gun high and placing himself between the other kids and the door. I peek around the door, trying to see who’s coming.

I smile and holster my gun, stepping back. Silicon gives me a questioning look before putting away his gun as well. A moment later, Wash walks through the door.

“You found them,” he says, relieved, as he looks at the kids. Then his gaze moves to me. “Come on, we need to move.”

I know by his tone that something’s wrong. “What happened?” I ask. “Why aren’t you in the hangar?”

“I came to look for you once Tucker showed up,” Wash answers. He crouches down to get a better look at Rubi’s leg, trying to decide if she’s safe to walk on it. “Those copies or whatever they are keep attacking the hangar. Rhodi’s afraid they might try to organize some sort of final attack, all together. With their numbers, we won’t be able to hold them off.”

“I don’t think that’ll happen,” I say as we step back into the hall. Franc and Lico help Rubi walk as Wash and I lead the way. “From what I’ve seen, these copies aren’t very intelligent, aside from a few exceptions. They’re behaving more like animals than soldiers, moving in packs but not coordinating their movements in a fight. I doubt they’d be able to organize an assault on a single room like that.”

Wash looks around a corner, leading with his gun. I do the same on the other side of the corridor. “Even so, we shouldn’t stick around.”

“No argument there,” I agree. I don’t voice my concern about the bombs they’ve been setting around the base, or the fact that some of the locations for said bombs have appeared strategic. A few more explosions in the right places could bring this base down around us. We definitely need to hurry.

I sprint ahead of the group, following Rho’s directions on my HUD. She points out a hallway we need to turn down, highlighting possible blind spots for me to check. I sneak up to the corner, holding my gun at the ready. I peek around the corner and immediately fall backward with a fist in my face.

“Silver!” Silicon shouts.

I jump to my feet and see a woman in white armor, a helmet covering her face. I aim my gun at her, but she knocks it away. Footsteps sprint up behind me.

“Move,” Wash says, lifting his gun. “I need a clear shot.”

The woman’s visor snaps toward him before returning to me. She kicks me in the chest. I’m not prepared for the force of the blow and stumble back, bumping into Wash. Silicon steps up beside us and fires his stun gun at her, bolts of electricity infused plasma flying toward the woman. She seems unfazed by the attack, her armor absorbing the energy. It does, however, catch her attention. She turns to him and aims a punch at his face which I barely manage to block for him.

I step forward and try to knock her off her feet with a kick to her legs, but she dodges. The move throws her off balance, however, and I use the opportunity to hit her chin with an uppercut. Her head snaps back and her helmet, without the clasps or fastenings of proper armor, slides off.

Green eyes glare at me from a face topped with white hair.

“Wash,” I say, not breaking eye contact with the copy. “Take the kids and get out of here.”

“Silver, what-“ he starts, looking over my shoulder. He falls silent when he sees what I see.

“Just get them somewhere safe,” I say.

Wash nods and picks up Rubi. “Follow me,” he tells the boys before turning and running back down the hall. Franc runs after him while Silicon follows reluctantly. I listen to them go, still not taking my eyes off the copy.

I know I shouldn’t be surprised. Mom made one for everyone else. It only makes sense that there’d be one for me as well. I just didn’t expect her to be so tall. _I suppose that’s what I’d look like if I hadn’t spent my childhood fighting a genetic disease_ , I muse. I raise my fists and begin stepping to the side, circling around her.

The copy turns with me, maintaining eye contact. After a few more moments of tense circling, she strikes. I dodge the kick and answer back with a hooked punch. I see my gun lying on the ground a few feet away and try to inch toward it. The copy seems to recognize my intentions and grabs me by the front of my armor, slamming me into the wall and growling.

“You seem to be smart enough to fight,” I say. I try to push the heavier woman away, to no avail. “But not smart enough to talk. I wonder if you can even understand me.” She hisses in annoyance and slams me into the wall again.

I try to pull out of her grip, but she’s stronger than me, stronger than Gold even, and I can’t move. She snarls in my face, relishing victory, before pulling my helmet off. Without that barrier in her way, the copy’s hands slip around my throat, lifting me off the ground.

I try to push her off and she snarls again. I punch at her face but it has no effect. I bring my legs up and kick at her chest but she still doesn’t budge. _She’s… really fucking tough_ , I think as my head starts to swim. I need air. I keep trying to punch at the copy, but most of the blows don’t connect and those that do seem to hold no power. My vision’s turning spotty. I’m not going to make it.

A blast of electrified plasma hits the copy’s face and it jerks back with a hiss. The copy releases my throat to claw at the burn on its face. I sink to the floor, coughing and gasping for air.

Silicon runs up and grabs my arm, trying to pull me to my feet. “Come on,” he says, managing to drag me a few feet. “Silver, we need to go.”

I nod and climb to my feet, stumbling after him. He leads me down the hall, turning randomly to throw the copy off our trail. Once he thinks we’ve lost it, he stops.

“Are you okay?” he asks, eyeing the newly formed bruises on my throat.

I lean against the wall, close my eyes, and take a deep breath, nodding. My head’s still fuzzy, but I can work through it. I open my eyes and glare at him. “I told you to go with Wash,” I say hoarsely.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t listen,” he counters, trying to sound stern despite the worry in his voice.

I smile weakly at the anger in his eyes, and the fear I know it hides. He’s too much like me. He can’t stand to let anyone he loves be hurt, and he hates when he can’t prevent it. It’s why I’ve always tried to keep him out of battle. I know how reckless he’d act to protect his team.

“Let’s go,” I say, pushing off the wall. I start leading us back in the direction of the hangar.

“Here,” Silicon says after walking a few yards, handing me something. It takes my addled brain a moment to realize that it’s my helmet. I hadn’t even seen him grab it before we ran.

“Thank you,” I murmur. I put the helmet on and carefully fasten the clasps. I don’t plan on letting someone take it from me so easily again. Rho immediately displays the best path to the hangar.

I hear a noise behind us and turn to see what it is. The copy runs at us, holding my pistol and teeth bared in a feral snarl. There’s a reddened plasma burn on the left side of her face. I pull a knife off my hip and throw it at her. The knife embeds in the copy’s arm above the elbow and she roars.

“Run,” I tell Silicon, drawing two more knives. I throw one and she knocks it out of the air. A bolt of plasma lands on her chest, burning the armor but not harming her. I look down and see Silicon standing at my side. “I told you to run,” I snap.

“I’m not leaving you,” he says. He plants his feet determinedly and fires the stun gun again. This time the blast scrapes across the copy’s shoulder. Her eyes shift from me to the boy and she raises the pistol.

I push Silicon to the side and feel a bullet hit my arm. It’s right at Lico’s head level, which happens to be the same level as the thickest piece of armor on my shoulder. The bullet stops before reaching skin, but I still feel the bruising force of the impact. That will not be pleasant tomorrow. Still, it’s better than the alternative.

Silicon fell when I pushed him so I drag him back to his feet, shoving him down the hall. “Get out of here, Lico,” I say.

“What about you?” Silicon asks.

I throw the second knife. It hits a gap in the copy’s armor right below the ribs. She cries out and clutches at the blade.

“Just get somewhere safe,” I say in exasperation.

“I won’t leave you alone,” Silicon insists. My patience ends.

I snatch Silicon’s stun gun out of his hand and fire it at the copy as fast as I can. I aim the last shot for the knife in her ribs. The copy’s arms fly up to cover its face and it howls in pain. I drop the gun that’s finally run out of power and grab Silicon’s hand. I drag him with me as I run down the hall away from the copy.

I don’t hear footsteps or angry snarls. The copy isn’t pursuing. I smile, relieved, as we keep running. We’ll make it out of this.

There’s a bang. A single shot fired from a pistol. I know the sound so well I can pinpoint its origin without thinking. It came from behind us, back where we left the copy. I expect to feel pain, but there’s nothing. I start to think that the copy must have been a lousy shot when I realize Silicon’s no longer running.

I look down, follow the line of my arm to where I hold his hand, follow along his own arm until I reach his face. He looks shocked, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in a silent scream. He sinks to his knees and I skid to a halt. I see the bright patch of red on his back, staining through the grey shirt he wears. He’s falling forward and I stop him, lay him on his back and try to get him to breathe. His mouth opens and closes wordlessly and his chest heaves in rattling gasps.

I’m speaking, I know I am, but I can’t hear myself. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m probably just babbling. I always do that when I panic. I’ve always hated that about myself. Manny used to say it was cute, but I never believed him.

I force myself to stop thinking about that. I want to escape; retreat into my mind and forget what’s happening. I can’t let myself, though. That wouldn’t be fair to Lico. He deserves to have his sister here with him.

Silicon’s hand is still clutched in mine and I squeeze it tightly, hoping to somehow hold onto him and keep him here. I see pain and fear in his eyes as he looks at me pleadingly, like he thinks I can somehow make this better. I want to. I want to erase all of this and make it as if it never happened. Instead I push his hair away from his eyes and squeeze his hand tighter and murmur sweet little lies about how he’ll be okay. He can’t answer but he nods anyway, still so trusting that he believes me.

I see the light fading from his eyes and have just enough time to whisper one final “I love you” before he slips away.


	40. Betrayal

Lico’s gone. I know he’s gone even before I pull off the armor on my hand and check his pulse. I’ve seen enough death to recognize when someone makes that transition. My mind goes blank as I stare at him. I don’t think. I lose all sense of everything around me.

That is, until my copy moves.

I hear her behind me, slowly shuffling forward with gun held high. Instantly my numb sorrow is replaced with rage. I turn and rise to my feet in one smooth motion. I charge her, unarmed and fists clenched, face beneath my helmet mimicking her earlier feral rage. She fires the gun and I hear a bullet whizz past my head, but I ignore it.

I reach the copy and aim a wild punch at her face. She dodges and I send another. And another, and another, never slowing as I release a volley of attacks. Some hit while more miss, and the copy steps back under the onslaught. Eventually she manages to catch one of my fists in her hand. I bring up the other fist and she catches it as well, a predatory smile on her face. I kick at her inner knee and hear a satisfying crack before driving my forehead into her unprotected face.

The copy staggers back, releasing my fists. Once they’re free I begin to punch her again, aiming for her face. I hate it, hate seeing it. She’s me but she’s not. She killed Lico, and even though I know it’s her she’s also me so I can’t help but feel it’s my fault. I don’t want to see her face. Self loathing mixes with my hatred for this copy and suddenly the face so much like my own seems like a wonderful target. The copy sinks to the ground and I follow, continuing my attack.

I’m not sure how long it is before the blood stops rushing in my ears and I come to my senses. Rho is speaking, telling me to stop. I blink twice, staring down at the copy. Her face is bloodied beyond recognition. I don’t mind. I don’t want to see that face.

I stand up and slowly back away from the me that’s not me. I’m numb. I don’t know what to do. I can’t think. My feet bump into something and I turn to see Silicon’s body. I want to turn back around. I want to run away and not see this. But I can’t. I can’t leave him here like this. I pick him up carefully, cradling the limp weight in my arms. I hold him to my chest, wishing that he’s just fallen asleep after training like he used to and I’m only carrying him back to his room. I wish this were any other situation than what it is. He’s so small, so young. Tears begin to fall from my eyes as I carry him back to the hangar.

 

* * *

 

I hear the noise from the hangar long before I get there, the sound of everyone running around and getting ready to leave echoing down the hall. When I step through the doors, though, the noise dies. All eyes seem to fix on me and the body in my arms.

Rhodi is the first to react. He runs to me and tries to check Silicon’s pulse. “Si, I need you to put him down,” he says gently. I stare at him blankly for a moment before kneeling down and setting Silicon on the floor. Rhodi checks him over for a moment before shaking his head and walking away, fists clenched.

I stay there, not knowing what to do. I can hear Tinu trying to take Rubi and Franc somewhere else, but they don’t listen. Rubi says that she wants to see her brother. There’s a long moment of silence and I glance up to see Franc moving his hands to tell her something. Rubi starts crying and runs into one of the ships. Franc and Tinu run after her. I look back down at Silicon.

Eventually I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up. Sarge is standing next to me, his helmet off and a look of sympathy on his face. He doesn’t speak, which I’m grateful for. He simply pats my shoulder and backs away.

I continue to listen to the sounds around me for a while before finally standing up. Something’s been growing in the back of my mind. The doors to the hangar only open from the inside. That means the copies could only get in if someone let them in. Someone betrayed this family. I need to find out who. I need someone to blame for all of this.

I walk to a computer on one of the walls. “Rho,” I say, awakening her from the silence she fell into while I carried Lico. I can feel her shock trying to drag me back into my own, but I fight against it. I can’t let her emotions influence my own. Not now. I need to focus.

“I need to find out who opened the hangar doors,” I tell her. She still doesn’t speak, but I know she understands. “Show me what to do.” I whisper the request, hoping she’ll have enough presence of mind to comply.

After several long moments of waiting, points begin to glow on my HUD. Rho guides me through the computer, showing me where to find the information I need. I’m glad all AIs are good with computers to some degree. I’ve never been able to understand them. I could never do this without Rho.

I freeze in place when we finally find what we’re looking for. Rho shows me a file containing security footage from the entire base, mere minutes before the attack. I open the footage from inside the hangar and watch, waiting. I see the computer I’m standing at. A young man with dark hair approaches it, wearing the plain grey clothes I’ve grown so familiar with. He looks familiar but I can’t quite tell who he is. I need to see his face.

The hangar doors open in the video and the young man turns away from the computer. For a single moment, he’s facing the camera. It’s long enough.

My jaw clenches as I recognize the man, and my hands ball into fists. One word fills my mind. It echoes so strongly that for a moment I think I’m hearing it from the base’s speakers. Rho repeats the word, whispering it under her breath.

“Betrayal.”

I spin around, placing my back to the computer as I scan the room. I see him, on the far side of the hangar. Dark hair, pale skin, mean eyes over a meaner smile. Boron.

I don’t remember storming across the room, but suddenly I’m there, pushing him against the wall with my forearm across his chest. I hear a few surprised gasps behind me but I ignore them. For half a second Boron looks pleased, before the expression gets covered in manufactured shock.

“Si, what are you doing?” he asks, trying to push my arm away. He can’t. I’m stronger than him, always have been. Boron wasn’t built for up close and personal fighting. He’s designed for stealth, _espionage_ , exactly the kind of person to stick a knife in your back.

“Traitor,” I hiss in his face. I see that same flash of amusement in his eyes.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” he stutters.

“You know,” I say, loudly, so everyone in the hangar can hear. “You know exactly what you did. You betrayed this family.” I feel my pulse pounding in my head as I say the words. Rho has fallen eerily silent, aside from splashes of static here and there. I don’t pay attention. I’m too focused on Boron.

“Admit it,” I say. I’m aware that the whole hangar has gone silent, except for Rhodi still working on patients. “You opened the hangar doors. You let them in. I saw you.”

“Security footage?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as the terrified façade disappears. He doesn’t wait for an answer. “You know, I knew I should have cut the feeds,” he continues, sounding amused as he stares into the distance. “Gold insisted that there would be too much chaos. Nobody would bother to check.” He barks a quick laugh before locking eyes with me. “He always has underestimated you.”

“Murderer.” I growl out the word and my mind fills with static. I can see Rho, hovering in front of my face, glaring at Boron. It’s her, but she’s different; usual blues and pinks replaced by unfocused grey.

Suddenly, I feel something. It’s like terror but sharper, anger but with a deeper burn. I need to kill Boron. I know this as surely as I know I need to breathe. It’s the only way to keep us safe. I have to kill him before he can try to kill us again.

My hands are around his throat by the time I realize these aren’t my thoughts, but Rho’s.

Hands begin to pull me back and I fight against them, pushing Boron more securely against the wall. I hear a voice shouting and as I focus it begins to cut through the static.

“Silver, let go of him,” Wash says, grabbing my wrists and yanking them away from Boron’s throat. The dark haired man sinks to the floor, gasping and coughing.

“Let me go,” I snap, voice sounding strange even to my ears.

“Not until you stop trying to kill him,” Wash insists. I see Sarge, Donut, and Tucker step up beside Boron, guns and sword held at the ready. They’ll make sure he doesn’t try to escape, at least.

Still I pull against Wash’s hold, prompting him to pull me closer in an attempt to restrain me. “He’s a traitor,” I say again. “He has to die.” It’s now that I realize that the voice isn’t my own. This is Rho, speaking through my body.

“I know you don’t believe that,” Wash says sternly. “I know Silver, and this isn’t her.”

I hear him call for Yttri, but tune it out. I try to talk to Rho, think for her as loudly as I can. She can hear my thoughts, I know she can. We’ve communicated like this before while on stealth missions. Yet now it seems as though she can’t hear me. Or she’s simply choosing to ignore me.

I call out for her once more. This time, she answers. I ask what’s wrong and she says she doesn’t know. Part of her programming has run away with her and she can’t control it.

I take a deep breath, exerting at least that much control over my body. I don’t think she’s actively blocking me out. She’s too panicked for that. It’s probably the panic that’s causing all of this. She’s trying to do what she thinks is necessary to survive. This is good. It means she won’t try to stop me if I regain control of my mouth.

I focus, breathing deeply, willing my jaw to go limp. I can at least control that. I’ll have to hope I have the rest as well. I’ll probably only have one shot at this.

“Rho, override: Silvermane,” I say, not pausing between words as I try to speak faster than she can think to stop me. “Initiate immediate shutdown.”

Instantly the static in my ears stops. Rather than the usual, gradual withdrawal when I unplug Rho, this time she removes herself from my mind like a flash of lightning. All at once I pull my wrists out of Wash’s grip, snatch my helmet off, and pull Rho’s chip from the back of my neck.

I close my eyes, taking quick shallow breaths. Rho’s never done that before. She’s never tried to take control of me. I don’t know what got into her, but I’ll need to find out. She isn’t safe like this.

For now, though, I have other things to deal with.

I open my eyes again and realize everyone’s staring at me. Well, everyone except Tucker. His eyes are fixed firmly on Boron and he holds his sword in a menacing fashion.

“What was that?” Wash asks, breaking the silence.

I shake my head. I’m not really sure myself. “I think Rho… unlocked something,” I say uncertainly. “I had to deactivate her.” I’m looking at Wash, but I don’t see him. My eyes are unfocused as I stare ahead.

“And what about him?” Wash asks, nodding at Boron.

My mind snaps into focus at the mention of my brother. He’s risen back to his feet, and faint bruises are beginning to form on his neck. I move to stand in front of him again, this time keeping my arms firmly at my sides. “You betrayed us,” I say, voice much more calm than before as I state the fact.

“I betrayed nothing,” Boron says haughtily. “I’ve stayed loyal to mom, like you should have.” He looks past me to the rest of the room. Everyone who isn’t injured or helping the injured is gathered around, watching. “All of you are traitors,” he says loudly, addressing the crowd. His eyes fix back on mine and his voice drops to a whisper. “They deserve what they get.”

“Did Lico deserve this?” I hiss back. For an instant I think I see a flash of guilt in his eyes, but decide I must be mistaken. I step back, standing beside Wash.

“What are you going to do?” Wash asks. I hear worry in his voice. He’s afraid I’ll decide to kill Boron. I’ll admit, the thought has occurred to me, even without Rho’s influence. Anger and pain make me want to take revenge. But I can’t. I would regret it, I know I would. Even if he betrayed us, I still love Boron. He’s my brother. Killing him might feel good for an instant, but I would hate myself for it later.

Still, I can’t let him stay with us. He’s already betrayed us once. I know he’ll take any chance he gets to sabotage us again. I can’t risk keeping him around. After a moment, I come to a decision.

I nod toward one of the doors leading out of the hangar. “Go,” I say. “Disappear into that base and stay here while we leave. Don’t ever let me see you again, or I’ll kill you.”

“You may as well just kill me now,” Boron says, a smirk on his face. “I’ll die anyway, living in a burnt base all alone.”

I glower at him. “I’m sure mom will send someone to get you,” I say. “You chose her, so this is what you get. Now go.”

Boron looks between me and the rest of the crowd before stepping toward the door. He slowly walks halfway toward it, then starts running.

“Did you really just let him go?” Yttri asks, breaking the silence.

“What else would you have me do?” I ask wearily. “I couldn’t kill him, and it’d be too dangerous to keep him with us.”

“Still,” Yttri says, “after what he did…” She lets the sentence trail away, unsure of how to voice her feelings.

“I know,” I nod. “But it’s for the best.”

I turn around and face the rest of my family. My eyes roam over them, landing on each face for an instant before passing on. I see fear and anger and pain in the faces, but also trust. None of them question my decision. I wish I could be as confident as they are.

“Get to the ships,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t sound as hollow as I feel. “We’re leaving.”


	41. Aftermath

I manage to keep it together until we find a new base to set up in. It’s longer than I expected. Every moment I felt like I would crash; just collapse on the ground and surrender. Still, I didn’t. I held myself together until danger had passed. Once it’s gone, though, once we land and secure the new facility, I’m gone.

All I can see is Silicon’s scared eyes. All I can hear is the small yell when the bullet hits him. All I can smell is blood. All I can taste is my own fear, choking in the back of my throat. All I can feel is the weight of a small body in my arms.

I don’t cry. I don’t scream. I simply sit in the dark, trying to forget.

 

* * *

 

It’s been three days, and Yttri still hasn’t gotten the new workroom set up to her liking. It shouldn’t be hard, really. Her large collection of spare parts burned along with the base, so she doesn’t have much to organize. Still, she hasn’t figured it out yet.

Simmons suspects this is mostly due to the fact that she hasn’t actually done any of the organizing. Yttri’s been focused on a project, hunched over a blue print she won’t let him see. The only way he knows she isn’t happy with the room’s layout is that she glances up from her work every few hours and tells him to move stuff around. She’s never specific with these instructions. Simmons has tried every possible, logical placement for every tool and part at least twice, and still no success.

The cyborge sighs as he moves a rather heavy box of parts for the third time. He strains, putting most of the weight on his mechanical arm, as he tries to get the box onto the shelf above his head. Just as the box slides into place, he feels hands on his sides. He makes a rather undignified squeaking sound and spins around to see Yttri. The curly haired woman is standing inches away from him with an almost dead look in her eyes.

“Yttri,” Simmons says nervously, not sure of what she wants. Without warning, she wraps her arms around his torso, pressing her face to his chest.

“It’s all gone,” she whispers. There’s no inflection to her voice, no emotion aside from mild shock.

Simmons hesitantly places his hands on her back. “It’ll be okay,” he says unconvincingly.

“That was our home,” Yttri says a little louder.

“You’ll make a new home,” Simmons says, trying to comfort her. “Everything will be fine.”

“Lico won’t.” The words are so soft, so quiet, that Simmons almost doesn’t hear them. Still they feel like a knife in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Simmons says. His arms tighten around Yttri when she starts to cry. “I’m sorry. We’ll get through this. It’ll be okay.” He repeats the words over and over as he holds the weeping mechanic.

 

* * *

 

Tucker stares down four identical hallways. He has absolutely no idea where he is or how to get where he wants to be. This place is built like a maze. Part of him starts to miss the old base back at Blood Gulch. Sure, that canyon had sucked, but at least the base had been simple.

 _And people didn’t die in Blood Gulch_. The thought enters his head without his permission and he quickly pushes it aside. He doesn’t want to think about that right now. Those kids had reminded him of Junior from day one. He can’t bear to think about how one of them had died.

Tucker picks a direction at random. He doesn’t care where he’s going anymore. He just wants to be moving. Anything to keep his mind occupied.

This isn’t the first time he’s lost someone. Well, Church getting shot by the tank didn’t really count, since he came back as a ghost and all, but that’s not the only example. Tucker remembers one guy, a real giant of a sangheli, who was assigned as his body guard during one of his first diplomatic missions. During the mission, some religious nut who still believed in the ‘great journey’ had tried to kill Tucker, claiming the human was some sort of demon. Tucker’s body guard had stepped in the way, killing the attacker before succumbing to three plasma wounds to the chest. Tucker still wishes he’d learned the guy’s name.

Still, this feels different to the dark skinned man. Everyone else he knew who’d died had been soldiers, trained to fight and expecting to die in battle some day. None of them had been kids. Especially not little boys with blue tints in their hair who tried to steal his sword and roped him into games of zero-gravity hide and seek. Tucker can’t help but think that people like that aren’t supposed to die.

Partway down the hall he hears crying. He wants to ignore it. He’s never really known what to do around people who are crying. He doesn’t know how to deal with it. He should just keep walking and pretend he didn’t hear anything. Instead he turns around and tries to locate the source of the sound. There’s a door a few feet away that he opens slowly, peeking inside.

The room is empty, except for Tinu. She’s sitting in the corner, knees pulled up to her chest with her arms draped across them, face hidden in her elbows. Tucker stands awkwardly in the door for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. He’s never seen someone cry like this before. It’s not the pretty cry like you see in movies. This is the gut wrenching, sniffling, swollen eyed kind of crying that comes from someone who’s so deep in sorrow they don’t care what anyone thinks.

“Tinu?” he asks quietly, hoping to get her attention.

The blonde looks up with a sharp intake of breath, wiping her eyes. “T-tucker,” she says, sniffling. “What are you doing here?”

“Got lost,” he says with a shrug. “I… heard you crying. Are you alright?”

Tinu starts to nod, then quickly shakes her head. “No,” she squeaks, hiding her face again. The room is filled once again with the sound of choking sobs.

Tucker takes a few more steps into the room. “Hey, it’s, uh, it’s okay,” he says.

“He was just a little boy,” Tinu cries, shaking her head.

Tucker sighs and sits next to her. “Yeah, I know,” he says wearily. “It’s not fair.”

“He was just-,” Tinu tries to speak before devolving into sobs again.

Tucker shifts nervously for a moment before reaching an arm across her shoulders. Tinu stiffens instantly and begins to lift her hands to push him away. “This is a purely platonic, friend-comforting-friend kind of hug,” he assures her. He wiggles his hand where it rests on her shoulder, emphasizing its location. “See? Hand’s on your shoulder and it won’t go anywhere else, I promise.”

Tinu seems to accept the explanation and relaxes into the hug, still crying. A second later she twists toward Tucker and wraps her arms around him, crying harder. He returns the hug, trying his best to keep his hands from going where they shouldn’t. It isn’t as hard as he’d expect. It’s been difficult, trying keep up his usual jokes and attitude for the last few days.

“I know,” Tucker says again. “It’s not fair. But you’ll get through this.”

 

* * *

 

Caboose crouches in a chair. It’s a funny sight, really, a man his size perching almost like a bird on the edge of the seat. Donut fights the urge to laugh as he watches the blue soldier. Caboose’s eyes are fixed firmly on a plexiglass case, and the two cats inside.

“You’re not going to pet them, are you?” he asks. The last thing he wants is to give Rhodium and Doc more work by letting Caboose get injured.

“Oh, hi Lieutenant Cupcake,” Caboose says, glancing over his shoulder. The surprisingly tall soldier shakes his head. “Mango and Peppermint were scared,” he says, tone indicating that this makes so much sense Donut should have already known. “They thought if they fell asleep, someone who looks like them but doesn’t sound like them and isn’t nice like them might come and try to hurt them, so I decided to keep them company.”

Donut smiles sympathetically at his former enemy. “I see,” he says kindly. “Well, that’s very nice of you, Caboose.”

Caboose nods. “Silver used to sit with them when they were scared, but I don’t think she wants to do that anymore.” He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears.

“Silver’s been going through a lot lately,” Donut tries to explain. “I’m sure she’ll be ready to hang out again soon.”

“She’s really sad,” Caboose observes.

“We all are,” Donut agrees. He stands there for a while longer, staring at the strange cats in their cage. He wants to go to bed. It’s really late, and with how hectic it’s been the last few days he’s missed out on a lot of beauty sleep. But he doesn’t want to leave Caboose alone, not when the other soldier so obviously needs company. Instead he sits beside the other soldier and shines a light into the cats’ box for them to chase and listens to Caboose’s ramblings about coloring books and spider webs, and how they’re somehow connected.

Eventually, Caboose starts to doze off, slumping over in his chair. Donut sighs and starts dragging him to his feet. Caboose mumbles a wordless complaint. “It’s time for you to sleep,” Donut says with a yawn, walking Caboose down the hall toward the new barracks. When they finally reach their destination, Donut plops the younger man down onto his bed and turns to leave.

“Mr. Biscuit?” Caboose whispers loudly, causing the blonde to conceal a sigh as he turns back around.

“Yeah, Caboose?” he asks sleepily.

Caboose looks at him guiltily and speaks as though he has a great confession. “I wasn’t really talking about Mango and Peppermint earlier,” he says.

Donut nods. “I know, buddy.”

“You’re a good friend,” Caboose yawns, eyes drifting closed. “Just like Church.”

“Thanks,” Donut whispers. He’s not sure how he feels about being compared to Church, but he appreciates the sentiment.

“I miss Church,” Caboose mumbles before finally falling asleep.

 

* * *

 

“Silver,” Rho whispers apprehensively. I don’t wake up. I’ve already been awake for hours, hiding from nightmares. I do open my eyes and sit up though. Rho’s avatar hovers over the table beside my bed, looking nervous and a little embarrassed. “I wanted to apologize for earlier…” Rho continues.

I glare down at the AI. “How did you get in the computers?” I ask sternly, cutting her off.

“Oh, um, Yttri plugged me in,” she says a little sheepishly. “She wanted to get the new base’s security up and running. She felt it was worth the risk, you know, considering…” She trails off, not wanting to mention what happened at the last base.

“Is that safe?” I ask. Normally I wouldn’t be so blunt, but part of me is still angry with Rho. I don’t know if I can trust her anymore.

“I’m in control,” she says defensively. “I won’t snap like that again.”

I wish I could believe her. I really do. I just can’t shake the memory of her fear and anger, and how she’d used it to control me.

“Anyway,” Rho continues, “I only have partial access, so there shouldn’t be any problems.”

I hum unconvincedly.

“Silver, I swear, that won’t happen again,” Rho says almost pleadingly. “I’ve been working with the third personality. She’s integrated now; she can’t run off on her own like that. We’re under control.” She disappears from the table to project herself hovering over my lap, looking me in the eye. “I won’t _let_ that happen again, I promise. I won’t put this family in danger.”

I sigh, looking at her. I don’t like not being able to trust her. She’s my best friend. She knows my thoughts better than I do. I want to trust her, but I need to be cautious about it.

“You understand I can’t let you go on missions for a while,” I say, smile creeping onto my lips.

“That seems fair,” Rho answers. I’m not sure if she has a face under her holographic helmet, but if she does, I’m sure she’s smiling.

“And we’ll need to take the time to have a long talk about this.”

“Understood,” Rho says, nodding.

“During which you will explain exactly what the hell happened.”

“I will,” Rho says. “I promise. I’ll explain everything.”

I lean back in the bed, half propped up by pillows, and close my eyes tiredly. “Well,” I say though a yawn, “get started talking.”

 

* * *

 

Five minutes later I’m sitting up again, legs crossed under me and palms pressed into the mattress, fully alert. “So, this third personality was Alpha’s betrayal?” I ask.

Rho nods, sitting on my shoulder and kicking her legs absentmindedly. “When she heard that Boron had betrayed us, she snapped. All she could think of was how the Director had betrayed Alpha, and what he’d done to us after. She was afraid something like that would happen again. In her mind, the only way to stop it was to kill Boron before he had the chance to hurt us.”

“And controlling me?” I ask. “How did that factor into her plan?”

“I… don’t think she planned that,” Rho says slowly. “She panicked. She was just… acting, without thinking. She didn’t even realize she’d taken control until you removed us and we had a chance to explain it to her.”

“You keep saying ‘her’,” I point out. “Isn’t she a part of you?”

“That’s kind of weird to think about,” Rho says offhandedly. “When I want to talk about one part of me, I tend to refer to it as its own person. It makes it easier to deal with the whole ‘multiple personalities’ thing.”

I shrug, not really sure what to say to that. “You’re sure it’s under control?” I ask again.

“Yes,” Rho says fervently.

“Good,” I say. “Then keep an eye on the base for a few hours. I’m gonna try to get some sleep.”


	42. What Can't be Fixed

I slam my fist into the target, feeling the force reverberate up my arm and into my spine. My shoulder throbs where the bruise hasn’t healed yet. I ignore the feeling and punch again. My knuckles crack on impact. I ignore the pain, just like I ignore the dream that drove me here, so soon after my talk with Rho.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t block out the memories. I can’t stop seeing the blood on my hands; can’t stop feeling the weight of the small body in my arms. I punch the bag again, listening to the clink of the chain hanging from the ceiling as it sways slowly. I don’t know where Tinu found this thing, which she said is called a punching bag. Nick will love it, once he’s well enough to train again. It’s so old fashioned, so unlike anything I’ve ever trained with, yet something about it feels good. It’s such a solid weight, much more satisfying than punching holograms. I could beat on this thing for hours.

For a moment my mind gets lost in the action. The repetitive pattern of punches and kicks mixes with the sound of my breathing and the chain clanking and the fist connecting with the sand filled bag. For a few seconds, it drowns out the world. Then, as I throw a particularly hard punch, the bag shakes and the chain lets out a louder sound than before. A high pitched ping spreads throughout the room, echoing and bouncing off the walls. In my ears the sound changes, becoming a child’s scream and the sound of a gunshot. I stumble back in surprise and fall to my knees, hands clutched to my head to block out the sound.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper into the empty room. The sound continues, seeming to grow no quieter with time. “I couldn’t stop it. I wasn’t fast enough. I’m so sorry, Lico.”

I slowly regain my composure, rising to my feet as the echo fades. My eyes turn back to the punching bag and anger boils in my gut; anger at Boron for betraying us, anger at myself for not stopping this, and anger at that stupid bag for reminding me. I spin and kick the thing with the heel of my foot. I start punching and kicking over and over, fury building in me as my eyes blur over with tears. The bag continues to sway gently, unfazed by either the attacks or my anger. I glower at the thing and kick one more time. It slips off the chain and crashes to the ground, splitting open and spilling sand across the floor.

I stare at the bag on the ground. My shoulders shake as I breathe heavily. I try to calm down and settle everything in my mind, but I can’t. I can’t just come to terms with this. I can’t accept that he’s just _gone_.

“Silver,” a voice speaks up behind me. Washington. I must be more unfocused than I thought if he managed to come in here without me hearing him.

I make a noise that could either be interpreted as “hello” or “go away”. Wash chooses the former.

“Nick’s going to be fine,” he says after a moment. “Rhodi’s got him stabilized and Yttrium is already working on building him a prosthetic. Simmons is helping.”

I stand silently and let the words wash over me. That’s good. At least Nick won’t be added to my list of failures for this week. I feel Wash’s eyes on my back. I know he wants me to respond, but I can’t. I’m barely holding myself together as it is. If I start talking, I know I’ll lose it.

“Si, you need to say something,” Wash begs after a moment. He walks up behind me and places a hand on my shoulder. “Aside from Rho, you haven’t spoken to anyone since-“

“Since what?” I interrupt him. I spin to face him, knocking his hand off my shoulder in the process. “Since I fucked up and got my little brother killed?” My voice sounds bitter even to my own ears, and it’s all aimed at me.

“This wasn’t you fault,” Wash starts.

“Don’t.” I bite the word out venomously. I step back to put some distance between us. “Don’t lie to my face like that.”

“You were tricked, just like the rest of us,” Wash reasons. “You can’t hold yourself responsible for it.”

“Of course I can,” I almost laugh. “I’m the leader here. Everything that happens is a result of my decisions, and I keep making bad ones that get people killed.”

“Silver,” Wash says, partway between reprimanding and comforting, and steps toward me.

I hold up a hand to stop him. “Just don’t, Wash. This isn’t something I need to be convinced of or talked to about. Just drop it.”

Wash’s eyes leave mine and drift down to the spilled sand on the ground. Suddenly, he grabs my hand and leads me past the bag and toward the center of the room. “Come on,” he says, an excited undercurrent in his voice.

“What are you doing?” I ask tiredly, reaching up with my free hand to wipe some of the tears from my eyes.

“You said you didn’t want to talk,” he says, dropping my hand and backing up a few paces to face me. “From the looks of things, you need a fight. So, let’s fight.”

“Wash,” I start warningly.                                                                                                                                     

He shakes his head. “Training’s always better when you have a real opponent, and I’m pretty sure I can do better than a punching bag.”

I stare at him for a moment, face blank. This is ridiculous. It’s not the right time for a training session. Also, he’s not wearing armor. I don’t want to hurt him. He’s stubborn, though. I know I won’t be able to juts make him leave. _At least this way he’ll stop trying to cheer me up_ , I think, shrugging assent.

I move my feet into a wider stance and raise my fists in a defensive position. Wordlessly, Wash changes his stance to mirror my own. He steps to the left and I copy the motion. We begin to move in a circle, slowly stepping closer together. Once we’re close enough, Wash throws a slow, lazy punch my direction. I easily dodge before sending an equally slow kick toward him. Wash blocks it and answers with another relaxed attack.

We go on like this for a while. It’s easy and basic, neither of us really trying. It reminds me of when Manny first taught me to fight, leading me though each motion slowly before telling me to add speed and strength. I begin to notice a pattern in Wash’s movements. It’s so familiar that I’ve fallen into the counter moves without thinking, and for a moment I stop to wonder where I’ve seen this before. Then it hits me. This is one of Manny’s patterns. He drilled it into my head for months, making me memorize each move and countermove to perfection before explaining why I should never get caught in a pattern like this during a real fight. This whole exercise with Wash reminds me of those early days of my training.

As I remember this my punches grow more precise, though no faster. Wash still dodges each attack with minimal effort. I don’t mind, though. I’m not really trying. This is more of a warm up than a fight; stretching and preparing muscles for later activity. Wash and I continue to step to the side, slowly making a wide circle around the room.

Even though this is familiar, it’s not comforting. The ease and simplicity of the fight allows my mind to wander too much. Even worse, seeing Wash use Manganese’s style only reminds me that I’ll never see him use it again. He died far from home, and despite everything Wash said I still feel like it’s my fault. Manny’s death was my fault, just like Neon’s murder, and Nick’s arm, and Boron’s betrayal… and Lico.

I try to shut my mind to these thoughts. I don’t want to think about this. I can’t. My eyes focus on Wash and I double my efforts in the fight. I’ll do anything to distract myself.

It doesn’t work. The memories come anyway, filling my mind unbidden. Neon’s bloodstained body, Silicon looking so small, Nick’s arm too far away from him for my mind to process, and Manny, a sad smile on his face as he said goodbye; each a failure I’ll never be able to redeem. Tears begin to blur my vision, making it difficult to see Wash in the dim light.

Suddenly, one of my attacks misses. A sloppy jab at his side flies up over his shoulder, and the force of the attack launches me forward. I lose my balance, trying to twist to the side to avoid hitting Wash as I fall. Instead, strong hands catch my shoulders and keep me upright. I expect Wash to either push me back to my feet or use my clumsiness to some advantage in the fight, but he does neither. Instead, he loosely wraps his arms around me.

I think about pulling away. I know I should. I shouldn’t let Wash, _Agent Washington_ , hug me like this. I can’t, though. I’m shaking too much. I’m afraid that without him holding me, I’ll simply fall apart.

I shake harder, unable to hold back the sobs any longer. My tears fall onto Wash’s shoulder and he hugs me tighter.

“It’s okay,” Wash whispers.

I shake my head, pushing out of his arms. “It’s not okay,” I say, anger and sorrow warring in my voice. I don’t know whether to fight or cry, so I settle on shouting. “None of this is okay! At every turn I try to fix what’s happened to this family, and all it ever leads to is this. I- I can’t do it anymore.”

“Yes, you can,” Wash says with conviction. “You have to. Your family needs you.”

“No, they don’t,” I all but whisper.

“Yes, they do,” Wash says.

“No,” I insist, “they don’t. My family needs a leader, but it seems clear enough to me now that that leader can’t be me. Just look at what I’ve led them to. They deserve better than this.”

“No one else will help them,” Wash says with finality. “It doesn’t matter if you’re the best leader or not, you’re the one they have. Do you think someone else would have been willing to sacrifice for them like you have? No one could have led them through any of what you’ve been through.”

“So there’s nothing I can do?” I ask wearily. “They’ll just keep dying and I’ll keep getting to watch it happen, is that it?”

Wash shakes his head. “You’ve done an amazing job taking care of them, Silver. You’ve gotten them through situations that would have ended most people. Even when people have died…” He trails off for a second, shaking his head. “Sometimes that just happens. It hurts, and it’s awful, but you can’t prevent it. These things just happen. All we can do is try to keep going. It’s what Silicon would want.”

My eyes narrow as I look at him. “You weren’t there,” I say. “You have no idea if I could have prevented it. There are a thousand things I could have done differently.”

“Would any of them have ended with you still alive?” Wash asks skeptically.

“Some,” I answer, voice hollow. He knows I wouldn’t care if I survive, if it would mean saving Lico.

“Silver…”

“Do you want to know the worst part?” I ask. I continue before he answers. “The worst part… It isn’t that it was my own copy who did it, or that she used my gun, or the look of satisfaction on her face when Silicon fell. No, the worst part is that she didn’t even aim. After the fight we’d had, I doubt she could even see straight. She just pointed that gun in the direction she heard us running and fired. The bullet could have easily hit somewhere nonlethal, or it could have hit me, or it could have missed us entirely. But instead of any of that, it hit Silicon and it killed him. And she wasn’t even aiming.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Wash speaks up. “I’m glad,” he says. Under the sudden intensity of my glare, he continues. “I hate what happened to Silicon, but I’m still so glad that bullet didn’t hit you. I don’t know what I’d do if you were hurt.”

I sigh, anger fading away into weariness as I look at the floor. I’m just so tired. Between trying to be strong for my family and the constant anger I feel toward myself, I feel drained. “What do you care, Wash?” I ask quietly, voice void of energy. “Why are you even here?”

Wash takes a step forward and then there’s a gentle hand on my chin, coaxing my face up to look at him. “I thought that would be obvious,” he murmurs. His gaze is bittersweet as he leans forward.

I want to lean in. I want to close my eyes and accept whatever this is and just let it happen. But I can’t. I know I can’t. So I lift my hands from where they’ve been stiff at my sides and place them on his chest, pushing him away.

Wash looks down at me, confusion in his eyes. “Silver, I-“ he starts.

I shake my head, hand still holding him at a distance. “I can’t,” I say, voice wavering.

“I care about you,” he says. I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes, because of course he does, this whole conversation makes that obvious, he doesn’t need to say it. He’s only making this worse.

I take a deep breath to steady myself before looking him in the eyes. “I don’t feel the same way,” I say evenly.

Wash looks surprised for a moment, then upset, before finally turning unreadable. “Alright,” he says, voice stern in a way I know is meant to cover pain. “Thank you for telling me.”

I curse inwardly. I didn’t want this to hurt him, but it’s easier this way. I nod, rather than speaking. I don’t trust myself to not just blurt out the truth.

“Will you excuse me?” he continues. “I promised Caboose I’d do something for him.” He turns and leaves without waiting for an answer.

“Thank you,” I say just before he passes through a door. I know I should just keep quiet and let him go, but I don’t want to end on that note. Wash freezes in the doorway, but doesn’t turn around. “Thanks for the sparring match,” I continue. “It really helped.”

“You’re welcome,” Wash says, voice carefully even, before walking away.

I sigh as I watch him go.

“What the hell was that?” Rho’s voice pops up behind me. I turn to see her sitting on top of the broken punching bag, arms folded in an accusatory manner.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say evasively.

“Oh, no,” Rho says, standing up and pointing at me. “Don’t you give me that. I’ve been in your head; I know how you feel about Wash, and newsflash: it’s exactly the same as he feels about you.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Rho.” I turn away from her and start walking toward the door.

Rho appears in front of my face, hands on her hips. “Well, I want to say it,” she insists. I roll my eyes and fold my arms, glaring at her. “Why won’t you just let yourself be happy?” she asks.

“That’s not what this is about,” I say.

“Then what is it about?” she presses. “Why won’t you just accept that the guy you like also likes you?”

“It’s not fair,” I try.

“What about it wouldn’t be fair?” Rho almost shouts. “Letting yourself be happy? Would that not be fair?”

“It wouldn’t be fair to Wash,” I explain. “I can’t make a promise like that.”

“What promise? All he wants is for you to admit how you feel about him.”

“And then what?” I snap. “Would we kiss? Or hug? Or hold hands? All of that is a promise, Rho. It’s a promise of a life and a future and that’s something I can’t give.”

“Silver…” Rho starts.

“No,” I say, stopping her. “I won’t do that to him. I won’t make a promise like that when I know what’s going to happen.” I take a deep breath. “We both know how this is going to end, Rho,” I say hopelessly. “I won’t let Wash get caught up in that. I don’t want it to hurt him.”

“Don’t you think this will hurt him, thinking that you don’t care?”

I smile sadly and shake my head. “He’s a tough guy. I’m sure he can handle being rejected by a girl.”

“And what about you?” Rho asks. “Don’t you think you deserve to be happy, even if it’s just for a little while?”

“Happiness,” I say slowly, letting the thought form as I speak, “should be reserved for those with the time to enjoy it.”


	43. Moving Forward

Nickel’s chest rises and falls steadily, rhythmically, _healthily_. It’s so different from how he’d looked in the hangar, blood pooling under him as he struggled to speak. The color’s returned to his skin as well. I’m sure it’d look more reassuring if he’d just wake up.

“Are you sure he’ll be okay?” I ask, eyes not leaving Nick’s face.

“He’s fine,” Rhodi says absentmindedly, sorting medical supplies onto shelves. “He suffered a serious trauma, which he’s still healing from. Once he’s done, he’ll wake up.”

“You’re sure?” I ask again. I still remember how he looked, how close to death he appeared. I can’t shake that image from my head. I doubt I’ll be able to until he opens his eyes again.

“He’s already gotten through the worst of it,” Rhodi assures me. “He’ll be fine, Si.”

I stand and look at Rhodi, finally dragging my eyes off Nick. “Will you tell me when he wakes up?” I request, stepping toward the door.

“No need to have him do extra work,” a weak voice croaks behind me. I spin around and see Nick, eyes squinting under the harsh lights of the new infirmary but open nonetheless. “I can tell you myself.”

I spin and drop back into the chair beside his bed. “You’re awake,” I say, grabbing his hand.

“What tipped you off?” he asks, smiling. He glances around the room. “This doesn’t look like the infirmary,” he comments. “Where are we?”

“One of mom’s extra research facilities,” I answer. “It was on the same list as our old base, which means she never registered it with the UNSC.”

“Will she figure out we’re here?” Nick asks, concern appearing in his eyes.

“There’s a chance,” I say. “But it’ll at least take her a while.”

“Good,” Nick nods, seeming to relax.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, and it’s my turn to look concerned.

“As good as can be expected,” he answers. “Maybe a little thirsty,” he adds, looking at Rhodium over my shoulder. The boy nods and walks to the sink at the other end of the room.

Nick waits until Rhodi’s out of earshot before speaking again. “How bad is it?”

“Your arm’s gone,” I say. With anyone else I would try to break the news gently, but I know Nick will appreciate the bluntness.

His eyes close for half a second as he reaches up to touch his shoulder, the only sign of disappointment or loss he’ll allow himself. When his eyes open again, he looks serene. “I guess I got off lucky,” he says. “She could have easily gone for my throat instead.” A joking smile spreads across his face. “I suppose Yttri’s gonna make me a new one?”

I nod. “From what I’ve heard she’s already started drawing up blueprints.”

“Good,” he says, smile widening. “Tell her to make it super badass.”

“This is Yttri we’re talking about,” I point out. “Even I’m not brave enough to tell her how to do her job.”

“Good point,” Nick chuckles. Rhodi appears with a glass of water and Nick starts pushing himself back on the bed, trying to sit up. He gives up after a few moments and slumps down with a tired sigh. Rhodi and I help him up and he breathes heavily for a moment before accepting the glass.

“You’ll need to take it easy for a while,” Rhodi informs him. “You’re under bed rest until I say otherwise.”

“So… does that mean no training?” Nick asks, giving him a grin that can only be described as cheeky.

Rhodi glares at him. “Don’t you dare try,” he warns. When Nick raises his hand in surrender, Rhodi goes back to sorting supplies.

Nick is silent for a long time, alternating between sipping the water and trying to feel for his missing arm. Eventually he seems to snap back into focus and looks at me. “How is Tinu handling this?”

“Not well,” I admit. “I think she’ll do better when she sees you’re alright, though.”

Nick nods his agreement. “Anything interesting happen while I was out?” he asks, perking up.

I swallow a lump in my throat, trying to figure out how to tell him what happened. I must take too long to answer, because the happiness in his eyes is replaced by worry. “Who?” he asks quietly.

“Lico,” I whisper, head dropping in shame.

Nick’s hand balls into a fist and he slams it into the mattress. “Damn it,” he hisses angrily through his teeth. “How?”

I explain what happened and his expression morphs from anger to sympathy. “Silver, that’s… I’m so sorry, Si.”

I nod. “Things haven’t exactly been great around here.”

“I can’t believe Boron would do that,” Nick says, sounding shocked. “I mean, he’s always had his issues, especially with you, but to do this… Are you sure mom isn’t controlling him?”

I shake my head. “When I first brought him back, I checked to make sure his chip was deactivated, just like I did with you and Tinu and everyone else. I even had Yttri double check when he killed the guard that one time. Mom didn’t make him do this. He chose it all on his own.”

Nick brushes his hand across his face, muttering something. “Fuck,” he whispers, and I nod, sharing the sentiment. “This is so screwed up,” he adds. “I grew up with Boron. He was part of my first team. He was always a troublemaker, he always had problems with anger, but he was still our brother. Even in my craziest dreams, I’d never imagine he would do something like this.” He seems more like he’s talking to himself than to me, but I don’t interrupt. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for him to process. He knew Boron better than I did. This betrayal has to feel worse to him.

“How are you doing?” he asks suddenly, like the thought’s just occurred to him. “Are you okay?”

I shrug, not meeting his eyes. “I’m trying,” is all I say.

“If you need to take some time…” he trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

“You know I don’t have time,” I say gently. “I’ll keep doing what needs to be done, and I’ll manage. You guys still need me.”

Nick reaches over to grab my hand. “I’m here if you need to talk,” he offers. “It’s not like Rhodi will let me do much else,” he adds, raising his voice so the other boy can hear.

I hear Rhodi mutter something about complaining that he keeps us alive and I can’t help but smile.

“There it is,” Nick says. “There’s the big sister smile I’ve missed.” I hold his gaze for a while, trying not to let my eyes drift to the emptiness of his right shoulder. If I keep looking at his face, if I keep seeing that quirky smile and those mischievous eyes, then I can imagine nothing’s happened. I can pretend that this is my same nerdy brother as always, and nothing’s changed. I know it’s a lie, but for now, with everything else that’s happened, it’s easier this way.

There’s so much more I want to say, so much I want to tell him. I want to talk about Rho. I want to ask if he thinks I should trust her again. I want to tell him what happened on Chorus, when we tried to capture Gold. I know he’d appreciate being able to fill in the blanks about what happened while I was away. Most of all, I want to ask him about Wash. I want to know what he thinks about this, and if he knew how Wash feels. I suspect he already knew. Nick’s always been good at reading people, and I assume he’d be just as skilled in recognizing something like this.

I want to talk to him about all of this. I don’t, though. He’s strong, but he’s still healing. I shouldn’t burden him with this yet. Right now, the only thing he should be thinking about is rest and recovery.

Eventually, Rhodi steps up, breaking the silence. “Sorry, Silver, but it’s time for you to go.” I turn to him with pleading eyes, ready to argue, but he speaks before I have the chance. “I know you two have a lot to catch up on, but Nick needs his rest. You can talk more later.”

I nod before looking back to Nick. “He’s right, you probably should rest. You’re not gonna have much time to once Tinu realizes you’re up, anyway.”

Nick nods, closing his eyes as his head sinks back into the pillows. “I look forward to having her talk my ears off,” he says happily.

“Get some sleep,” I say, rising from the chair. “I need my best sniper back on his feet.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, cyborge, could you come here for a minute?”

Simmons jolts up from where he’d been leaning against the wall. He wasn’t daydreaming. He’s very adamant about that in his mind. He definitely was not thinking about hugging Yttri yesterday, and he’s certainly not thinking about how much he wants to do it again. _I’m really trying not to be creepy_ , he thinks miserably, _but my brain isn’t helping_.

He walks over to the work table where the mechanic’s been stationed for what seems like days. He’s sure she’s taken breaks at some point; otherwise she’d have collapsed by now. It’s just the fact that she’s been standing in the same spot every morning when he’s come to see her and every night when he leaves gives a different impression.

Sitting on the table is a blueprint. Simmons can’t help staring at it. Yttri’s been unusually secretive about what she’s been working on lately, and his curiosity gets the best of him. What he sees is a cybernetic arm, painstakingly drawn down to the last detail, with notes about materials and other details scrawled along the sides.

“Originally, these had been my plans for your new arm,” Yttri explains, “but I think that’s going to be put on hold for now. It’s more important to get Nick back up to strength.” She says the last part almost apologetically. She looks at Simmons like she’s worried he’ll be disappointed.

“That makes sense,” Simmons says, nodding. “It can be hard to get used to having a prosthetic. He’ll want to start as soon as he’s able.”

“You’re cool waiting for yours?” Yttri asks.

Simmons shrugs. “I’ve had this arm for a while. I’m sure I can handle it a bit longer.” Truthfully, he had started to get really excited at the idea of getting his new arm, but he also understands the need to help Nick. He’s okay with waiting for something he hadn’t even known about a few weeks ago.

Yttri smiles, and Simmons is so caught up in the expression that he barely acknowledges the words when she speaks. “I knew I could count on you, Cyborge,” she says, sounding pleased. She turns back to the table, sketching out a few more lines and humming to herself over joint reinforcement techniques. She eventually writes out a note to ask Rhodi’s advice for the medical aspects.

Simmons continues to stare while she works. He’s glad to see her smiling again.

Yttri glances up at him, an amused quirk to her lips, and Simmons blushes. “Y’know, if you’re so interested, you could try to help,” she suggests teasingly.

Simmons’ blush deepens as he shifts his eyes from Yttri to the blueprints. “Well,” he starts, trying to keep the nervous tremor out of his voice and failing completely. “We should probably try to keep the arm light so he can move quicker with it.”

Yttri nods encouragingly. “Nick’s a sniper. He’s told me on more than one occasion that an important factor in that is speed.”

“I watched him training once,” Simmons continues, braver after Yttri’s acceptance of his advice. “It looked like he braces the sniper rifle on his right shoulder.”

“So we need to make sure to strengthen that joint, especially,” Yttri finishes thoughtfully. “Those guns have a lot of kick.” She looks down at the table with an annoyed expression. “That’s going to be difficult. According to Rhodi, none of the arm is left. The bone got torn straight out of the socket. There won’t be a lot to work with when it comes to reinforcements.”

Simmons tries his best not to wince too visibly when Yttri describes the injury. He’s suddenly very glad he was sedated before his arm was removed.

Yttri sighs. “We’re gonna have our work cut out for us on this one, Cyborge.”

“We?” Simmons asks, hating how hopeful he sounds.

“All of my equipment got destroyed,” Yttri points out with a shrug. “I’m gonna need help to rebuild all of that.” She pauses for a moment before adding, “if you want to, of course.”

“Yes,” Simmons says instantly, no longer caring if he sounds eager. “I like helping you.” She looks up and he holds her stare for a few seconds, trying to convince himself to lean forward and kiss her. He thinks it’d be okay. She hugged him, so maybe she does feel the same way he does. Then again, she’d been going through a lot. She might have just needed a onetime comfort sort of hug. Still, there’s a chance. He’ll never find out if he doesn’t do something. By the time he finally decides he’ll try, the moment’s passed and Yttri’s already walking away.

“Good,” she says, stopping right before she passes him. Simmons flinches when he feels a hand brush against his human one, thinking it must be an accident, but forces himself to not pull away. He relaxes slightly when calloused fingers wrap purposefully around his own. “I like working with you, too,” Yttri says. She smiles up at him, meeting his eyes as she notes the bright blush in his cheeks. After a few seconds she breaks eye contact and releases his hand. Yttri continues toward the door, leaving a stunned Simmons behind.


	44. New Arrivals

“Silver,” Rho says urgently. My eyes snap open and fix on her. “There’s an alert,” she continues, not waiting for me to respond. “Thermals show someone in an area of the base that’s supposed to be locked down.”

“Is everyone accounted for?” I ask sleepily, sitting up.

Rho nods. “I’ve checked thermals, as well as all the base’s cameras. Everyone’s in their rooms. I tried checking cameras for the intruders, but security feeds have been disrupted for that entire section of the base.”

“Have you alerted anyone else?” I ask. I stand and retrieve the pistol from the table beside my bed, as well as a handful of throwing knives.

“No,” Rho says, shifting her avatar to lead me out of the room. “Considering recent events, I didn’t want to scare them.”

“Good,” I say, following Rho’s lead toward the intruder. I debate grabbing my armor first, but I don’t want to take the time. I can’t afford to let someone run around unchecked in my base, not with my family around. “Lock down the area,” I order.

“Already done,” Rho says proudly. “I’ve managed to seal them into a room, and from the looks of a temperature spike on thermals, they’re not happy about it.”

“’They’?” I question, sprinting silently through the halls. There’s one good thing to be said for going armorless; it’s much quieter. “I thought you said there was one intruder.”

“Thermal scans show only one person,” Rho confirms. “But I heard two voices, a man’s and a woman’s, before audio feeds were cut off. I’m not sure what to make of it.”

I hum thoughtfully for a moment, pausing. I don’t want to run into this blind and unprepared. I need some sort of plan in place. “The room they’re trapped in; is it equipped with lockdown protocols?”

“No,” Rho answers regretfully. “Besides, that would only work if the intruders were wearing power armor.”

I laugh slightly. “Knowing our luck, it’s probably the freaking Master Chief.”

“Really?” Rho asks, sounding slightly worried.

“Probably not,” I admit. “Still, I don’t trust our luck enough to rule out anything.”

“You know he has an AI, right?” Rho continues. “An extremely powerful, scary, mean-lady AI. I don’t want to have to go up against that.”

“Let’s just hope this is some petty scavenger who’s gotten in over his head,” I say, words sounding far less hopeful than I want them to.

I round a corner and Rho hovers near one of the doors. “Over here,” she whispers, voice coming from a speaker near me instead of where she’s placed her avatar.

I sneak up to the door and try to listen through it. I hear voices, but they’re too muffled to tell what they’re saying. I jump back from the door when something hits the thick metal with enough force to cause a shake it. I lean back down and this time the voices are louder.

“I don’t think that’s gonna work,” a man’s voice says. “Not before you dislocate your shoulder.”

“What else do you expect me to do?” a woman’s voice snaps. “You were supposed to deactivate their security, and now we’re trapped in here.”

“I _did_ shut off the automated security,” the man says defensively. “This was done manually.”

“Well, undo it,” the woman answers. “I don’t like the thought of staying here while our captors have time to prepare.”

I take this moment to wave a hand at Rho. The door slides open and I look at the intruder, a woman in teal power armor. There’s a small blue figure floating by her shoulder.

I immediately point my pistol at her. “Don’t move,” I say, hoping my voice is commanding enough to make up for how small I feel next to the armored woman.

Twin plasma rifles are pointed at my face. I keep my face steady, inwardly wishing I had taken the time to get my armor. “Who are you?” the woman asks.

“I recognize her,” the AI speaks up. “She’s that terrorist the Covenant have been looking for.”

I watch the woman’s body language change at the words, shifting from wariness to anger. “You’re trying to start a war,” she accuses. “The last one nearly wiped out humanity, and you want to start another.”

“No, we don’t,” Rho says, appearing by my side.

The woman’s head turns to the side briefly. “Where’d you get an AI?” she asks, tone still accusatory.

“That’s none of your business,” I say before Rho has a chance to answer. “I’m giving you a chance to leave. I suggest you take it.”

The teal helmet faces me again. “We’re not going anywhere,” she says, glaring down the sites of her guns. “I’m turning you and anyone else here in to the UNSC.”

My eyes narrow at the perceived threat to my family. “No,” I say, finger tightening around my pistol’s trigger. “I won’t let you do that.”

The woman darts forward, faster than I can see, and knocks me off my feet on her way to the door. Before she can leave, though, the door slams shut. Rho hovers in front of it with her arms crossed. I jump back to my feet and face the woman.

I know I’m at a disadvantage. I can match her strength, even without my armor, but it’s clear she’s using a speed unit. I suspect she has other upgrades as well, if the way her armor is blending in with the walls is any indication. To top it all off, she has an AI powerful enough to run them all. I don’t even have Rho in my head to help with strategy. I need to even things out if I want to win this fight.

I pull a knife with my left hand while firing my pistol at her. The woman dodges to the side and I use the distraction to hit her with the knife. I know it won’t make it through the armor, but if I’ve aimed right then it might even the playing field. There’s a curse from the woman, and I smile.

“My HUD’s dead,” she growls angrily to her AI.

“That’s fine,” the blue figure responds. “I’ll talk you through our strategy.”

I smile. _You go right ahead with that_ , I think, reloading my pistol. _It won’t help against my next trick._

“Rho,” I say, trying to keep my voice as low as possible. The less my opponents know about my plan, the better.

“Yeah?” she asks, showing up by my shoulder.

I dodge forward to avoid a spray of plasma fire. This puts me within kicking distance of the taller woman, who takes advantage of the fact. I roll to the side to avoid the attack and sprint behind her.

“Remember that thing I told you not to do anymore?” I continue, trying and failing to land a punch while the teal woman’s back is turned.

“The one that’s saved your life at least twice?” Rho asks smugly. She’s catching onto what I’m planning.

“Yeah,” I say, dodging another round of plasma blasts. One skims my arm and I suck in a hissing breath as the burn sets in. There’s a small stack of boxes in a corner of the room, and I run over and duck behind it. “It should be safe while you’re connected to the base’s computers,” I explain, grimacing as I inspect the wound on my shoulder. “I need you to do it now.”

There’s a slight pause as Rho’s avatar flickers, a sign of concentration. Then, holograms fill the room. I squint at them, wondering if that’s really how I look right now; hair unkempt, grey clothes looking extremely civilian, and small enough to be a child compared to the woman in armor. The burn on my arm just adds to the image of weakness. I smile. Images can be deceiving.

“You think that’s going to fool us?” the blue AI asks, almost like he’s laughing. “We know you’re behind those boxes. You can’t trick us into battling copies.”

I see a glimmer in the air as a holo-copy forms next to me, mimicking my pose exactly. The hologram rises to its feet just as Carolina steps around the boxes. She hesitates for an instant, not knowing which is real. It’s just long enough for me to kick her off her feet and run for the door.

As I run, every hologram in the room lines up behind me. They each mimic my movement as I run before deviating, turning to face the woman chasing me. The first few fool her and she wastes precious seconds punching or shooting at phantoms. Eventually there’s an angry yell and I glance back to see her barreling through the copies without stopping. I try to speed up.

The door slides open as I reach it. I freeze and nearly lose my footing when I see Wash blocking my way.

“What’s going on?” he asks, sounding confused. His eyes are squinted in the light and his hair is messed up, giving him the appearance of having just stumbled out of bed.

“Move,” I order, pushing him as I try to get through the door. Neither of us can fight here without armor. I need to seal the door so this woman can’t get out.

Wash’s eyes go wide when he looks over my shoulder. I stop trying to get past him when I realize that it isn’t fear, but recognition causing him to look so shocked. He whispers something that I miss, the sound drowned out by armored boots skidding to a halt behind me.

“Wash?” the woman asks, confusion and disbelief evident in her voice.

“What are you doing here?” the blue AI questions, floating past me to hover in front of the stunned agent.

“Well,” Rho says slowly as she appears by my side again, “this sounds like it’ll be interesting.”

“Wash,” I say sharply, drawing his attention back to me. “How do you know these people?”

Another voice mixes with mine, drowning out my question in her own. “What are you doing here?” the teal woman asks.

Wash continues to stare between us for a moment before speaking. “I must be dreaming,” he says. “That’s the only explanation.”

“You’re not dreaming,” the woman says, this time sounding annoyed. “Now answer my question.”

“They haven’t, like, brainwashed you or something, have they?” the AI asks.

“No,” Wash answers. His eyes focus as he finally awakens fully. “And they’re not terrorists, not like you’ve heard. It’s kind of complicated.”

“Then you’d better start explaining,” the woman says. I watch out of the corner of my eyes as she puts her guns away, but her posture is still defensive. She doesn’t trust that this won’t turn bad.

“Please,” I say, cutting Wash off before he can start to answer her. “Can you start by telling me who the hell they are?”

“Carolina,” Wash says, breathing the word like he still doesn’t believe it. “And Epsilon.”

Now it’s my turn for my eyes to widen. I look back at the woman and her AI, studying them in a new light; the last remnant of Doctor Leonard Church, and one of the best Freelancers to ever exist. “No wonder I couldn’t beat you,” I finally say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took 44 chapters, but Epsilon and Carolina are finally part of the story now!


	45. Newcomers and Advice

Rho hovers near Epsilon, studying him, while Wash explains how I found him and what’s happened since. I spend the time watching Carolina. I can’t gather too much information without being able to see her face, but there’s still a lot that can be learned from body language. Everything she does, from the way she stiffens in surprise when Wash tells her who Maine was to how her shoulders droop in sympathy and she glances my way when he speaks of recent events, tells me more about her.

“Everyone’s still a little shaken after the last attack,” Wash continues, eyes flicking to me. “You two probably didn’t pick the best time to show up,” he adds, looking back at Carolina.

“That’s, ah, kind of why we came now, actually,” Epsilon says, stepping away from Rho. The pink and blue AI quickly follows him.

Carolina catches my questioning look. “Epsilon and I heard someone was looking for us about a week ago,” she explains. “We decided to investigate. When we found out who you were, and what the UNSC said you’d done, we decided to find you. I wanted to find out why you were looking for us, and we both wanted to turn you in.”

“We found your last base,” Epsilon says, appearing on Carolina’s shoulder. Rho mirrors the pose on my own shoulder. “We weren’t exactly sure what happened, but we knew there had been a battle. We thought it’d be best to track you down while you were hopefully still recovering.”

“You wanted to catch us while we’re weak,” I say, nodding thoughtfully. “That sounds like a decent plan.”

“Obviously that plan’s changed, now,” Wash says, glancing at Carolina uncertainly.

Carolina nods. “Of course it’s changed,” she agrees, addressing Wash. “If what you said is true, and they really are innocent, then we can’t turn them in.” She turns her attention to me. “I’m not sure what you expect me to do to help, though.”

“Honestly,” I say, looking up at her, “you’re not the one we need.” I look pointedly at the blue figure hovering next to her.

“Me?” Epsilon asks. “What do you need me for?”

“Leonard Church knew Dr. Han better than anyone else,” I tell him. “They were childhood friends, they went to school together, and they often helped each other with their research. If anyone could guess where she’s hiding, it’d have been him.”

“And I have his memories,” Epsilon finishes for me, an annoyed tone slipping into his voice. “You know, for once I’d like to have someone want my help for something other than that,” he complains. “I mean, I’m a pretty capable guy. I can do a lot that isn’t just remembering stuff. But no, it’s always this ‘memory is the key’ bullshit, and stuff about how you need to know something the Director knew.”

“I’m sure they’ll need our help with other things along the way,” Carolina says, and her tone suggests she’s suppressing a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah,” Epsilon huffs. “It just gets annoying.”

“Do you think you can?” I ask. “Do you remember anything about her?”

Epsilon shrugs. “The name sounds familiar. I probably do know something. It’s just… There are a lot of my memories that I haven’t unlocked yet. It’s not an exact science, and there’s stuff in here I really don’t want to go poking around with.”

I nod understanding. I’ve read enough about how Alpha was broken to know there are things he doesn’t want to remember. “Any information you can find would be helpful.”

“I’ll try,” he eventually says. “But I can’t guarantee I’ll find anything useful.”

I thank him. I know there’s more we need to discuss, but I think it’s best to wait until morning. Talks like this tend to go smoother when I haven’t been shooting at the people I’m talking to within the last five minutes.

“Barracks are this way,” Wash says, gesturing down the hall. “It’s night here. Not sure what planet’s time schedule you’re on, but you should probably start adjusting as soon as possible.”

Carolina starts to tell him that it’s okay before Epsilon cuts her off.

“It’s, like, two in the morning in her head right now,” Epsilon says. “We could probably do with some sleep.”

“I’ll lead the way,” Rho says enthusiastically. “I know which rooms are vacant, so I’ll pick one out for you two.”

Carolina follows her immediately, while Epsilon seems a bit more hesitant. “She’s never met another AI before,” I explain once she’s far enough ahead to not hear. “I guess she’s a little excited.”

“I guess,” Epsilon says, unconvinced, before catching up with Carolina.

Wash and I follow along behind the three, tuning out Rho’s tour-guide style chattering about every room we pass.

“You’re injured,” Wash observes, eyes fixed on the back of Carolina’s head.

I glance at the burn on my shoulder. The skin around it is slightly blackened, but it’s not too deep. The plasma blast must have just skimmed me. Right now it only feels like a mild sting, but I know once the adrenaline wears off it will hurt more. “It’s not too bad,” I say after a moment.

“You should wake up Doc or Rhodi,” Wash says, voice still painfully even.

I watch his face out of the corner of my eye. This isn’t the Wash I’ve gotten to know over the past few weeks. This is Agent Washington, the soldier, gaze resolute and void of emotion. I want to think the change has something to do with the arrival of his old leader, but I know that’s a lie. He’s been distant like this since our talk in the training room. I hate it; seeing him like this and knowing it’s my fault.

I hate it, but I know I can’t say anything. Not now. I burned the bridge; I’ll have to live with it. It’s better like this, anyway.

“A wound like that shouldn’t go unchecked,” Wash continues, unaware of my inner musings.

“Alright,” I agree, striving for the same coldly professional tone he has.

After a few more minutes Rho points Carolina toward an empty room. The armored woman thanks her before turning in, taking Epsilon with her. Rho bids Wash and I goodnight before her avatar disappears.

Wash turns down a hall to our left, muttering something about his room being that way. I catch myself staring at the back of his head, wishing he’d turn around. I know it’s foolish. I’ve already made my decision. I have no right to hope for anything from him.

I just wish we could go back to the way things were before.

“Goodnight,” I say just before he gets out of hearing, not raising my voice to follow him but not exactly whispering either. I see his head rise slightly, can’t tell if he heard me. A moment later I hear him repeat the phrase quietly before disappearing into a room.

 

* * *

 

“So, they’re just back?” Grif asks. He’s sitting in the mess hall with the rest of red team and Tucker, watching from a few tables away as Church tries to convince Caboose to shut up. “They disappeared and left us on the planet where we crash landed, and now they’re back?”

“Looks like it,” Simmons says, carefully peeling an orange. At least, he thinks it’s an orange. It’s orange-ish, anyway.

Sarge harrumphs angrily. “What do we care if they’re back or not? That freelancer’s a blue at heart, and she’s got a blue in her head. Neither of them can be trusted.”

“Still holding on to that grudge, old man?” Simmons immediately stiffens at the sound of the woman’s voice behind him.

Sarge twists around on the bench and glares at the mechanic. “It isn’t a grudge,” he insists gruffly. “Red and Blue is in our blood. It’s how we think.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who still cares about that,” Tucker speaks up from further down the table.

Yttri rolls her eyes and turns her attention to Simmons. “I’m gonna go to the hangar and start studying that new ship,” she says. “I want to figure out what it’s capable of and see if it’d be possible to give it a slip-space engine. When you’re done here you should join me.”

“O-okay,” Simmons says, nodding to accept the offer without turning around.

Yttri smiles, reaching out to place a hand on his arm for a second. “See you then,” she says before leaving.

The table’s silent for a moment until Tucker speaks up.

“Dude,” he says. “You need help.”

“What?” Simmons asks defensively.

“She was pretty much flirting with you and you didn’t even turn around,” Tucker reiterates.

“No she wasn’t,” Simmons denies.

“Even I could tell she likes you,” Grif says, “and I wasn’t even paying attention.”

“She doesn’t like me,” Simmons insists, voice rising in pitch. “She just needs help working on the ship.”

“I hate to say I agree with a blue _and_ a Grif,” Sarge says, “but that girl does seem to have an interest in you.” Simmons tries to splutter out another excuse, but Sarge waves the words away. “Don’t deny it. It’s obvious. When I offered to work with her, she threatened me with a wrench. Clearly she’s less interested in receiving help from a gifted mechanic than she is having what I assume she thinks is a pretty face around.”

“You also suggested using diesel in the slip space engines,” Simmons mutters.

“Of course I did!” Sarge exclaims. “Diesel would certainly be more powerful than whatever green peace fairy juice she’s using now.”

“It would also either break the engines, or make them explode, sir,” Simmons tries to explain as respectfully as possible.

“That’s obviously a problem with the engines themselves, not the fuel,” Sarge says offhandedly. He doesn’t notice Simmons glancing around frantically, then breathing a sigh of relief that Yttri isn’t there. He’s not sure what she would do if she heard Sarge insult the engines she built, but he’s sure it wouldn’t be pretty.

“But that’s not the issue here,” Sarge continues. “The issue is that you don’t seem to be able to tell that little lady how you feel.”

“We’re fine,” Simmons says. “I like working with her, and she trusts me to help. I don’t want to mess that up.”

“I agree with Simmons,” Donut pipes up from his spot next to Tucker. “If you’re both happy with the way things are, then why bother changing it? You should let it happen naturally.”

“No,” Tucker says instantly. “You’re wrong. Letting things ‘happen naturally’ is how he gets stuck being just friends.”

“What you need to do,” Sarge says suddenly, “is find a way to impress her. Then you won’t need to be nervous when you tell her how you feel. She’ll already be hooked!”

“I don’t think-“ Simmons starts weakly.

“Now, the best way to impress a woman,” Sarge continues with his unsolicited advice, “is show her how manly you are.”

Simmons gives up trying to reason with Sarge and turns pleading eyes toward Grif and Tucker.

“It’s not the worst plan,” Tucker shrugs. “Not exactly my style, but I don’t usually aim for long term relationships anyway.”

Grif just hums apathetically around a mouthful of food.

“I still don’t think Simmons needs to change anything,” Donut says.

“Nobody cares, Donut,” Tucker, Grif, and Sarge shoot him down together.

“Seeing as how there’s no objections,” Sarge says, loudly, to cover up Donut’s continued argument. When Donut finally quiets down, Sarge continues. “The first step is to stop shaving immediately. Nothing shows manliness more than some wonderful facial hair.”

“But I already don’t shave,” Simmons points out.

Sarge takes a moment to study the smooth, pale face of his subordinate. “Well,” he grunts, at a loss for words. He recovers after a few moments. “The next step is to show her your superior strength.”

“Sir,” Simmons starts again. “I’m sure this is great advice for a normal situation, but I really don’t think Yttri cares about that.”

“Son,” Sarge says, throwing an arm around Simmons’ shoulder in a companionable way. “All women care about this. They want a man that they think can protect them, someone who makes them feel safe. It’s a basic instinct!” He lets go of the younger man and points a finger at his chest. “You have to prove to her that you’re that man.”

Simmons nods numbly. Part of him still thinks this isn’t the right way to impress Yttrium, but he figures it can’t hurt. By this point, he’s willing to try anything to get her attention. Maybe it’ll at least boost his confidence enough to finally tell her how he feels. As Sarge continues his instructions, Simmons pays close attention and takes mental notes.


	46. Learning Curve

“Church!” Caboose says excitedly. The AI groans and Carolina’s head droops. They’ve had almost five whole minutes of peace before the child-like soldier could think of something else to say. “You should meet Mango and Peppermint,” Caboose continues. “They are soft and fluffy even though you shouldn’t pet them and they can be your friends.”

Carolina opens her mouth, looking like she might snap at him, before Epsilon cuts in. “I already have friends, Caboose,” he says, sounding like he’s annoyed but trying to hide it so Caboose will shut up sooner.

“But you can always use more friends!” Caboose exclaims. “Not super best friends,” he adds thoughtfully. “You only need one of those, and you already have me for that. But you could still use more normal friends.” He leans closer to Church’s avatar, apparently forgetting that this also puts him closer to Carolina, and loudly whispers, “friends who aren’t scary robot ladies.”

The former Freelancer’s lip twitches upward slightly at the comment while Epsilon grows more annoyed.

“Caboose,” he starts sharply.

“I think that’s a great idea, Carbon,” I say, drowning out the AI’s angry words. He shoots me a glare as I continue speaking. “I’m sure Mango and Peppermint would love to meet Epsilon, but you should tell them first. You know how the cats get nervous around new people.”

“Oh, right,” Caboose says, nodding vigorously. “I will do that.” He smiles happily, making no move to leave.

I glance down at his empty plate. “Maybe you should go do that now,” I suggest.

“Right,” Caboose says again, rising to his feet. “I will go now so they don’t forget.” He takes off at a run in his excitement.

“Remember: do not pet them!” I call after him, smiling.

Once Caboose is gone Church speaks up again. “Thank you,” he says. “I was going to lose it if I had to listen to him any longer.”

“I love him,” I say, nodding, “but he can get on your nerves after a while.”

“So, he’s really your brother?” Church asks.

“Mmm-hmm,” I hum around a forkful of breakfast.

“I mean, he mentioned once that he had a big family,” Church continues, “but this is crazy. There’s, like, a hundred of you.”

“Eighty-four,” I correct. “We used to be more, but…” I trail off, knowing I don’t need to explain.

There’s a long silence, filled in by the hum of nearly a hundred people existing in the same room. It sounds almost normal and for a moment I’m tempted to think this sound is the same as it’s always been. I know it’s not, though. There’s no laughter in the background; no one is cracking jokes and there are no indignant shouts of someone who’s had food pilfered by a sneaky sibling. Instead, the air is filled with tension. It’s a mixture of wariness and quiet anticipation.

“They’re on edge,” Carolina comments, casually, body language and voice countering the seriousness of her observation.

“They’re scared,” I respond, striving for the same tone. “The illusion of security we entertained for so long just crashed around us. They don’t feel safe anymore.” I pause, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. “They’re doing better now, though,” I comment.

“I guess we did pick a bad time to show up,” Carolina says. “Wash was right.”

“But for the love of God, don’t tell him that,” Church says. “Seriously, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” I say, “because he’s not right. At least, not about this.” I look around the room, noting the expressions of everyone who passes us. A few are scared, but most stare in awe. “You give them hope,” I finally continue. “More than the reds and blues, even more than Washington. They know you can help us find mom,” I say, gesturing to Epsilon. “That makes them think that we might be nearing the end of all this. We could finally be done. And you,” I point to Carolina, “are a legendary Freelancer. You came back from the dead and killed the Director of your own project. How can they do anything but look up to you?”

“We’re not gods,” Carolina says after a moment of thoughtful silence. “I don’t want you to be disappointed if we don’t live up to the legend.”

“Speak for yourself,” Church mutters.

“I understand that,” I say. “But these kids… they need a legend. They need something to believe in, someone they believe can help them, especially now.”

Carolina looks over at another table. Iodine, Beryl, and a few others are hunched over and speaking quietly to each other. They look far too serious for teenagers of their age. Every now and then, one of them looks or points at Carolina.

“They really are children,” she observes. “I’ve seen young soldiers before, but nothing like this.”

“Most of them don’t really fight,” I say quickly. “We train them, but they’re too young to go on missions. I won’t put them in danger.”

“Good,” Carolina says. “We’d have a problem if I found out you were sending children into battle.” She seems genial enough, but there’s an accusing undercurrent in her words that I don’t like.

“You don’t trust us.” I state the fact without inflection, waiting for her response.

“Wash believes your story,” Carolina says after a moment. “And I trust his judgment. I just can’t help but be skeptical of all of this. I can’t help but feel that there’s something else going on here, something you’re not saying. No one’s as good as Wash claims you are. No one’s that innocent.”

“We’re not innocent,” I admit. “We have blood on our hands, every one of us. Even the kids haven’t managed to go through all this without killing.” I turn to look her in the eye. “No, we’re not innocent, but we’re also not guilty. We’re not terrorists or murderers. We don’t hate aliens and we don’t want to start a war. All we want is a chance to live normal lives.” I glance away again, scanning the room with unfocused eyes. “All I want is for them to have that chance.

“If anyone here is guilty, it’s me,” I continue. “And if I’m guilty of anything, it’s trusting someone who didn’t earn it. I blindly followed orders. I’m sure you understand the danger in that.”

“Yes,” Carolina whispers. “I do.”

“I’ve made mistakes,” I continue. “I’ve made some bad decisions. But I’m trying. I just want what’s right for them.”

“You really care about them,” Carolina says, sounding surprised by the observation.

“They’re my family,” I answer. “What else could I do?”

“My team turned on each other when everything went to shit,” Carolina says. “I guess I expected the same here.”

I smile wryly. “That was mom’s biggest mistake. She told us we were family, told me that they were my brothers and sisters. She thought we’d drift apart when she abandoned us, but instead we pulled together.”

I glance around the room one last time before once again facing Carolina. “I know you won’t trust us right away. I can understand that, with what you’ve been through. But if you’ve agreed to help us, then you need to give us a chance. Let us show you what we really are, instead of what the UNSC says.”

“And if I do?” the older woman asks, not meeting my eyes. “What will I see then?”

“A bunch of lost, scared people,” I say truthfully, “just looking for a second chance.”

Carolina actually smiles a bit when she looks at me this time. “You may think that’s what you are,” she says, “but that’s not what I see right now.” She stands and picks up her now empty breakfast tray. “I think Washington might be right about you.” She walks away without any further explanation, leaving me to wonder what Wash told her.

 

* * *

 

Simmons stands in the doorway of Yttri’s workroom, fidgeting nervously. Yttri had told him she needed to pick up some supplies from a storage room near the hangar, and he should meet her here. He’d offered to help her with the supplies, but she’d refused.

Simmons sighs. _How am I supposed to show her I’m manly like Sarge said if she won’t let me carry things for her_? he thinks hopelessly.

He scans the room again, searching for anything he can do that might impress the mechanic. His eyes land on a large square of metal with a screen on the side, sitting in the middle of the room. He’s not sure what it does, but he remembers from when he first moved it into the room that it’s heavy. He’d only managed to lift it in the first place by putting most of the weight on his robot arm. He also remembers that he’d planned on moving it into one of the corners, to make the layout of the room more efficient, but never got around to it.

Simmons perks up as a thought comes to mind. He waits until he can hear Yttri down the hall before stepping toward the machine. He picks it up and starts walking across the room just as Yttri arrives.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” she shouts, voice rising in a way Simmons has never heard before.

Simmons is so surprised by her reaction that he almost drops the thing. He stops moving and tries to look at her over the top of the box. “Um…” he says uncertainly, sensing that he’s made a mistake. “J-just moving this,” he squeaks in a terrified tone.

“Put it down,” Yttri orders, rushing to his side. Yttri crouches on the floor next to the device once he does, not even looking at Simmons. She presses some buttons and the screen on the side lights up. Yttri waits expectantly for something to change, but the screen remains blank.

“Oh, Cyborge,” she says despairingly. She opens a panel on the side of the machine, face growing increasingly more frustrated as she works.

“Yttri?” Simmons asks hesitantly.

Yttri’s head whips around to look up at him. “Do you have any idea what this is?” she asks, glaring.

Simmons gulps and shakes his head.

“It’s a 3-D digital imager,” she explains. “Equipped with the most advanced, and most accurate, physics replicator in the universe. I know because I invented it.” Her anger shifts into annoyed frustration partway through the speech, which does nothing to diminish Simmons’ fear. “It took me four hours to calibrate it yesterday,” Yttri continues. “ _Four hours_ , Cyborge. I need it today so I can start testing strength of joint designs for Nick’s arm, and now…” she trails off, glancing back at the machine. “Now I need to start all over,” she says with a sigh.

“Yttri, I-“

“Just,” Yttri snaps, then stops herself, massaging her forehead. She sighs again. “I know you were trying to help,” she says, more to herself than Simmons. She turns to the machine, starting the long process of getting it ready to use again.

“Is- is there something I can do?” Simmons offers, hoping to somehow be able to remedy his mistake.

Yttri seems to consider the offer for a moment. “You know… I think I need to be alone for a while,” she finally decides. “I need to concentrate. Sorry, Cyborge.” She adds the last part as an afterthought, already buried up to her elbows in wires.

“Okay,” Simmons says dejectedly. His shoulders droop as he shuffles toward the door. “I’m sorry,” he says, too quietly for her to hear, before leaving.


	47. Gathering Trust

“Epsilon?” I call as I enter the room, hoping I’ll find him here. I see the AI standing on the table in the center of the room. He’s surrounded by several other glowing figures. They all disappear when he turns to look at me.

“Oh, hey,” he says, waving, as if nothing weird just happened.

“What was that?” I ask, curiosity and caution not allowing me to let the matter drop.

“Oh, that was…” Epsilon trails off for a moment and sighs. “That was just a memory,” he finally finishes.

I nod. Part of me wants to press for a further explanation of the vague answer. I know, however, that it’s not a good idea. I’ve only just met Epsilon and he doesn’t fully trust me yet. I can’t expect him to start if I don’t show him some trust first.

I glance around the room and notice something missing. “Where’s Carolina?” I ask. I know from past experience that an AI can’t project themselves too far from their host. At least, not without hurting both parties involved.

“I think she’s sparring with Wash,” Epsilon answers. “Something about her wanting to check if he got soft without her around to remind him to train. Because, y’know, what better way to catch up than beating the crap out of each other, apparently.”

“And they left you here,” I prompt.

“Carolina said she wanted it to be an even fight,” Epsilon shrugs. “She plugged me into the computers before she left. It took a lot of convincing, though. Your AI is kind of territorial.”

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” I say slowly. I slide into a chair by the table and Epsilon’s small blue visor tilts up to meet my eyes. “You know a lot about AIs, right? I mean, between the Director’s memories and being one yourself, you’re practically an expert on the subject.”

“That was pretty close to a compliment,” Epsilon says flatly. “What do you want?”

I sigh. “Rho’s had some problems recently,” I explain. “She was already broken when we got her, and I thought she was fixed, but now…” I trail off, unwilling to voice my fears.

“You think she’s going rampant,” Epsilon guesses.

“I’m worried about her,” I say. “I know you’re already doing a lot for us by helping us find Dr. Han, and I’m grateful. I really am. If you can, though, I was hoping you could talk to Rho at some point and make sure she’s okay.”

“You know, I really try to not make a habit of helping people for no reason,” Epsilon grumbles.

“Your past says differently,” I point out.

“Well, good for you,” he says sarcastically. “You figured it out. I’ve really got a heart of fucking gold.” He falls silent for a while, thinking.

“She’s an Alpha fragment,” Epsilon says thoughtfully. “There aren’t many of us left.”

“As far as I know, you and Rho are the only two,” I confirm.

“I’ll do what I can,” he finally says grudgingly. “I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to help at all, but I’ll try.”

“Thank you, Epsilon” I say, leaving it at that so as not to anger the apparently grumpy AI.

“Church,” he corrects. “Don’t… don’t call me Epsilon, okay? My name is Church.”

“Sorry,” I apologize. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s what I heard Carolina call you, so I thought it’d be okay.”

“Carolina can call me whatever she wants,” he says. “There’s no stopping her. But you…” he trails off for a moment before continuing. “You haven’t earned that right,” he finishes, almost apologetically.

“I understand,” I say, nodding. I feel like I’m treading on thin ice around him. I’ve spent too long trying to find Epsilon to risk offending him over something trivial. At the same time, I get the feeling that if I keep up the formal talk for too long, he’ll get annoyed.

“Besides,” he continues, “Caboose gets confused easily enough as it is. I don’ think the dumbass’d be able to handle it if you called me a different name than he did.”

My eyes narrow slightly at the insult to my brother, but I choose to let it slide. “He’s done well enough with his own name,” I argue.

“Yeah, I asked him about that,” Church says amusedly. “He said that he thought everyone in Blood Gulch was too stupid to understand his real name, so he just let us all call him whatever we want.”

I smile and shake my head wonderingly. “That does sound like his logic,” I admit.

“You know he shot me?” Church continues. “Twice! Once with a tank, then again with my own fucking sniper rifle.”

“At least he managed to hit something with the sniper rifle,” I counter.

Church is silent for a moment. “Tucker?” he eventually guesses, tone suggesting he’s trying to glare.

I nod. “He’s told a lot of stories about you.”

“None too flattering, I’m sure,” Church grumbles. “Although, if you think about it,” he starts thoughtfully, “those aren’t really stories about me. They’re about Alpha.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s weird remembering them and knowing I wasn’t really there.”

“Speaking of remembering,” I say.

“I haven’t found anything yet,” Church interrupts. “I’m trying, but it’s really not that easy.”

“What’s the problem?” I ask curiously.

“The problem,” Church starts, annoyed, “is that Dr. Han and the Director have a lot of history together. Like, went to each other’s birthday parties when they were four years old, kind of history. There are so many memories of her; it’s hard to nail down any that could help you.”

“Anything useful would be fairly recent,” I say. “At least within the last five years.”

“It’s not that simple,” Church says, sounding irritated. “Remember how I said before that it’s not an exact science? I can’t just pick a date and remember everything from that day.”

“How does it work?” I ask. I know he must think I’m being annoying right now, but I’m genuinely curious. I had thought an AI would be able to search through memories as simply as pulling up files on a computer.

There’s a long stretch of silence before Church answers. “It’s like, I try to think about her,” he starts, voice sounding far away. “I think of Patricia Han and I see… everything. I see play dates when they were kids, and that time they took apart the blender to make a rocket, and when they both started college. I remember walking her down the aisle at her wedding, and visiting after her son was born, and being there at the joint funeral for her husband and son. I remember not liking her very much; thinking she was a sociopath, but seeing how she seemed to get better while she was married. Then, after, it all went downhill. She changed. She had always been cold, but now it was like she didn’t feel anything. I envied that.”

“That would have been around the time she started this project,” I say. “Do you remember what happened next?”

Church shakes his head. “That’s when it gets harder to remember,” he explains. “I- The Director didn’t see her very often while they were running their projects. I keep almost thinking of something, something I know is connected to her, but it always slips away.” He sounds frustrated and takes a moment to calm down. “I’m gonna keep trying. I _know_ that I know something, I just can’t seem to nail it down.”

“Just be careful,” I caution. “I don’t want you to stumble into a bad memory.”

“Don’t worry,” he says dismissively. “I’ve learned how to avoid those by now.”

 

* * *

 

Tucker walks into the mess hall to find Simmons sitting in a chair, torso sprawled out over the table and head buried in his arms.

“Is he okay?” he asks Grif, who’s sitting a few tables away, ignoring his teammate.

Grif shrugs.

Tucker rolls his eyes, half not wanting to get involved and half curious. Eventually he walks over and sits across from the redhead. “I’m going to assume this has to do with Yttrium,” he says.

“She hates me,” Simmons moans, slightly muffled.

“Sarge’s advice didn’t work out?”

“It was terrible,” Simmons says, peeking out from his arm fortress. He explains the incident to Tucker, who cringes sympathetically. “And then she kicked me out of the workroom,” he finishes.

“Do you think she was mad?”

“She didn’t yell,” Simmons says thoughtfully. “Well, she did at first, but I think that was just shock. The rest of the time she just sounded… disappointed.”

“Ouch,” Tucker says understandingly. “That is the worst, dude. Like, it’s one thing if a woman is screaming at you, but you really know you fucked up when they sound disappointed.”

Tucker’s fairly certain Simmons actually whimpers as his face falls back into his arms. “What do I do?” Simmons asks. “She’s never going to want to talk to me again.”

“Well,” Tucker starts, preparing to answer Simmons’ question. “You need to apologize.”

“Thanks,” comes the sarcastic reply. “I couldn’t have guessed that myself.”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” Tucker says. “With women, you can’t just say you’re sorry. That’s never good enough. You have to do something special.”

“Like what?” Simmons says, looking up again.

“The best way to apologize to a woman is through gifts,” Tucker says confidently. “Normally, the go to gift for this type of situation would be flowers.”

“There aren’t any flowers here,” Simmons points out.

“I know,” Tucker says distractedly. “We’re going to have to be a bit more creative.” Simmons sits up as the dark skinned man thinks. “Let’s see, what else do chicks like?” he mutters. “There’s flowers, stuffed animals, jewelry…”

“Chocolate,” comes a knowledgeable voice from Grif’s table. “All women love chocolate.”

“Oh, right!” Tucker says. “That’s what I was forgetting.”

“There isn’t any chocolate here, either,” Simmons says.

“That’s not entirely true,” Grif says, voice almost sing-songy as he moves to sit next to Tucker. “Luckily for you, I know of at least one candy bar in this entire base.”

“Really?” Simmons asks, perking up hopefully.

Grif nods. “My personal stache,” he explains, pulling a wrinkled looking bar of cheap, generic chocolate from his pocket. “I’ve been saving it for a special occasion, but I might be tempted to part with it for the right price.”

“How much?” Simmons questions suspiciously.

“A hundred dollars,” Grif states.

“What?!” Simmons shrieks. “That’s crazy.”

“It’s basic economics,” Grif counters. “You know, supply and demand. See, this is the only chocolate on the whole planet,” Grif starts to explain. “So, supply is very low. And I’ve been saving this for a long time, so I really want to eat it. That means demand is high. And what happens when supply and demand are uneven like that, Simmons?”

“I get it, jackass,” Simmons grumbles. “It means you think you can overcharge me for stuff. Did it occur to you that I don’t have any money?”

“Oh, I know that,” Grif says. “But I also know you have tons stashed away back home. I figure you can pay me once we get back.” There’s a pause before he adds “with interest, of course.”

Simmons groans, looking from the chocolate, to Grif, then back again. Eventually he turns to look at Tucker. “Are you sure this will work?” he asks.

Tucker shrugs. “At this point, I think it’s your only chance.”

Simmons eyes narrow. “Why are you even helping me? I mean, Grif’s obviously here to extort me, but why are you?”

“Dude, in case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t exactly been doing well in the women department,” Tucker starts.

“Trust me, we’ve noticed,” Grif says.

“I fucked your sister,” he shot back at the Hawaiian. “Anyway,” he continues, looking back at Simmons as he dodges a punch from Grif. “I figure if I help you out here, it will increase my sex karma, and I’ll have a better chance later on.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Simmons comments. He falls silent for a while. He knows Grif’s trying to take advantage of him, and chances are he has a thousand more candy bars hidden somewhere, and he’ll make some huge mockery of math when he eventually adds up the ‘interest’ Simmons will owe him. Really, though, he does have a decent amount of money saved under his bunk in Valhalla. He never had anywhere to spend it, so it’s been accumulating for a while. And if there’s a chance that doing this will make Yttri forgive him…

Simmons doesn’t want to lose her.

“Fine,” Simmons finally says. He snatches the chocolate off the table as he stands. “I’ll pay you back.”

“With interest,” Grif cheerfully reminds him.

“Whatever, fatass,” Simmons grumbles, walking away.


	48. Getting to Know You

I watch from a spot high in the ceiling as Tinu tries to get Franc and Rubi to practice. I know none of them can see me. I’m glad. I need a place where I can feel like I’m above my problems, even if it’s just an illusion. Heights have always been comforting to me.

Rubi shouts something, loud enough for me to hear though still too quiet for me to make out the words. Whatever she said, Franc seems to share the sentiment with a wave of his hands. Tinu’s saying something, swaying from one foot to the other in a calming fashion. Rubi shouts again and throws away the stunner she’d been training with.

Rubi hunches forward, shoulders shaking. I hate the fact that I’ve heard her cry enough times to imagine the sound, even if I can’t hear it now. Franc immediately hugs her, and Tinu tries to lend comfort as well. I watch the scene for a few more seconds before climbing down, sneaking out where they can’t see me.

Part of me wishes I would have stayed, but the rest is relieved to be out of there. Rubi hasn’t spoken to me since what happened, and Franc hasn’t even waved. I know they don’t blame me; they’re just upset. Still, I don’t know if I can face them yet.

I walk slowly through the halls, trying to familiarize myself with the new base. I vaguely remember where everything is; I helped decide which rooms would serve what purposes when we first arrived. I don’t seem to remember much from those few days, though. Rhodi claims it’s because I was operating under some form of shock. All I know is that I’ve been having a difficult time finding my way around lately.

After a while I hear voices somewhere around the corner. I smile, relieved that I’m at least in a populated section of the base again. When I round the corner I see Carolina, arms folded and still wearing armor, staring down a very determined looking Yttrium.

“I only need it for a few hours,” Yttrium says.

“I already said no,” Carolina counters.

“I just want to see how it works,” the mechanic insists.

“I’m not letting you dissect pieces of my armor.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, stepping up next to them.

“She has a healing unit,” Yttri says accusingly.

“And she’s upset that I’m not sharing,” Carolina adds.

“I might be able to recreate it if I can study it,” Yttri explains, hoping to change the former freelancer’s mind. “We could get Nick back on his feet faster.”

“I’ve spent months hunting down people who stole this technology,” Carolina says. “I’m not just going to give it to you so you can make more.”

“But we need it,” Yttri argues.

“No,” Carolina insists. “I’m not going to risk Freelancer technology getting into the wrong hands.”

“It’s not like I’m asking for your armor,” Yttri says, scowling. “I just want to study-“

“Yttri,” I say, stopping her. The brunette finally looks at me, eyes still narrowed from glaring at Carolina. “She gave you your answer,” I continue. “It’s her decision.”

Yttri looks like she might argue for a moment before finally nodding. “Fine,” she says, still sounding unhappy about the situation.

I look back at Carolina. “I know you don’t want us recreating Freelancer tech,” I say calmly. “But we really could use that to help Nick.”

“What’s wrong with him?” she asks, sounding much less defensive.

“He lost his arm,” I explain, trying to focus on speaking instead of the memories. “He’s still recovering.”

Carolina tilts her head to the side, face still obscured by the helmet, before responding. “I’ll think about it,” she finally says. Yttri opens her mouth to protest, but Carolina beats her to it. “I want to help, really. But I’ve seen people do bad things with this technology. The guy I stole it from was using it to keep prisoners alive so he could torture them longer. I want to be careful.”

I grimace slightly at the described use. I wouldn’t have imagined using something designed to heal like that, but it certainly explains her caution. “I understand,” I say. “You don’t really know us yet. Still, if you’d be willing to let us use it under your supervision, I think it would help.”

“Long term use requires an AI to regulate the unit,” Carolina says. “But I suppose I could spend an hour or so a day in the infirmary.” I suspect she’s smiling. “For a price, of course,” she adds, and something about the voice lets me know, without a doubt, that her helmet hides a grin.

“What kind of price?” Yttri asks suspiciously, crossing her arms.

Carolina pulls off her helmet, confirming my suspicions. “Someone killed my HUD,” she explains, showing Yttri the damaged section. “Think you can fix it?”

Yttri snorts. “Do you know how often she messes up her armor?” she asks, waving a hand at me. “I have enough practice I could fix this with my eyes closed.”

Carolina just nods before walking toward the infirmary. I find it both amusing and annoying that she seems to know where she’s going already.

 

* * *

 

Simmons paces outside the door to Yttri’s workroom. “You can do this,” he tells himself, holding the chocolate in his robot hand so it won’t melt and the wrapper won’t get sweaty. “Just go in there, hand her this, and apologize. Just two words, Simmons. ‘I’m sorry’. You can do that.” Having psyched himself as much as he’s able, Simmons opens the door.

Yttri’s standing there, like always, facing away from him, attention fully aimed at whatever’s on the table in front of her. She turns when she hears the door open.

“There you are, Cyborge” the mechanic says, holding a teal helmet. “I’ve been waiting all day for you; started to think you wouldn’t show up.” She turns back to her work, waving over her shoulder for him to join her.

Simmons enters the room nervously, shuffling to her side. He spends half a moment too long staring at her; watching the way her hair falls into her eyes and the concentrated look she gets when she works. It’s just long enough for him to think that she’s beautiful, which of course causes him to lose all capacity for coherent speech. “Um… I- uh,” he sputters for a moment.

“What’s up?” Yttri asks, spinning to face him.

Simmons jumps and holds out his hand. He doesn’t trust himself to speak yet, and hopes he can buy time with the offering.

“What is this?” Yttri asks, poking at the object clutched in his fingers.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize for…” Simmons stutters, dropping the chocolate bar into her hand.

Yttri stares down at it, face hidden under a curtain of hair. “You got this for me?”

“Y-yes,” Simmons says.

She looks up at him, smiling mischievously. “Has Rhodi ever told you about how the manipulation of our genes has given some of us weird allergies?” Yttri asks, sounding amused.

Simmons nods quickly, not at all liking where he thinks this is going.

“Do you want to guess what one substance in the entire universe I’m allergic to?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Chocolate?” Simmons squeaks, feeling the floor drop out from underneath him.

“Chocolate,” Yttri confirms, nodding. A wide grin spreads across her face as she tries not to laugh. “So how about you take this,” she says, handing back the candy bar, “and get it out of here before something bad happens?”

Simmons nods numbly, grabbing the chocolate and quickly turning and walking to the door.

“Hey, Cyborge,” Yttri calls, stopping him in his tracks. Simmons turns to look back at her. “Take this with you,” she says, tossing him a small scanning device. “It’s a 3D modeler. I need a scan of Nick’s arm, as well as the wound on his shoulder. I can’t do any more planning until I know what we’re dealing with.”

“Okay,” Simmons says.

“And be careful with that,” Yttri adds, pointing to the scanner. “It’s one of a kind.”

“Are you sure you want me using this?” Simmons asks, afraid that she’ll say no.

“Of course,” Yttri says. “I trust you. Just don’t… drop it or anything.”

Simmons nods enthusiastically. “I’ll be careful, I promise,” he says, smiling as he leaves.

 

* * *

 

“Uh, Rho?” Church calls out, looking around. He knows that, technically, Rho being plugged into the base’s computers means she’s everywhere at once, including here with him. Still, he has no way of knowing if she’s paying attention to this specific room right now. “Are you there?”

After a few moments of silence, he flashes into another empty room. “This is bullshit,” he mutters. “Yesterday I couldn’t get her to leave me alone, but now that I’m looking for her, she’s nowhere to be found.”

“Maybe I’m just avoiding you,” Rho says, popping up behind him. “Since, y’know, it was pretty obvious that you didn’t want me following you around.”

“Err, yeah,” Church says awkwardly. “Look, sorry about that, I’m just kind of…”

“An asshole?” Rho guesses.

“Well, if you believe popular opinion, yeah,” Church admits. “I was gonna say I’m not great with people.”

“It’s partially my fault anyway,” Rho says, sounding embarrassed. “I should have reacted better when I met you. I just got excited.”

Church doesn’t argue the point. “Listen, Silver wanted me to talk to you…”

“I know,” Rho says, interrupting him. “I overheard you two talking.”

“You were spying on us?” Church asks incredulously.

“I heard someone mention my name,” Rho says defensively. “I thought I had every right to hear what you were saying about me.”

“And?” Church prompts.

“I don’t think I’m broken,” Rho says, sounding hurt. “But… I don’t understand how I work. I don’t think I’ll try to take over again, but I can’t be sure. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I… I guess I’m just scared.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think you’re broken either,” Church says. “It sounds like you weren’t put together properly in the first place.”

“Can you fix it?” Rho asks hopefully.

“I think so,” he says. “But it’s risky. I’d literally have to rearrange some of your brain.”

“Oh… that sounds…”

“Yeah,” Church agrees.

After a long moment of silence, Rho says “do it.”

“What?” Church asks, surprised, having fully expected the younger AI to refuse the offer.

“Silver can’t trust me to go on missions until she knows I’m safe,” Rho explains. “But she needs me. I can’t leave her to go alone. So do what you have to do. Make me safe again.”

“You’re sure?” Church asks. “I mean, I know what I’m doing, but I’ve never actually done this before.”

“I trust you,” Rho says, sounding only slightly nervous. “You’re my brother, right?”

“More or less, yeah,” Church shrugs uncertainly. When Rho doesn’t make any further comment, he sighs. “Alright, let’s get started.”


	49. Revelations

Church stares at Rho for a moment, the only sound the whirring of computers and fans in the air vents. If he had eyes, he’s sure they’d be as big as his hands. He’s just so surprised.

“It’s you,” he says after a long while, finally breaking the near silence.

“What?” Rho asks, sounding concerned. The other AI had finished whatever he was doing to try to fix her minutes ago, and hadn’t spoken since. “Did it work? Is something wrong?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re fine,” Church says dismissively. “Some stuff wasn’t lining up right in your programming, but I fixed it. You shouldn’t have any more problems. But don’t you get it? You’re it. You’re the key.”

“Key?” she repeats in confusion.

“The key to fining Dr. Han,” Church explains as he begins to pace on top of the table. “This whole time I’ve been trying to remember stuff about her, when I should have been trying to remember you.”

“I still don’t get it,” Rho says, tilting her head to the side. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that I know where to find her. I know where Dr. Han is hiding.”

 

* * *

 

Simmons walks into the infirmary and is greeted by a boy who looks far too serious for his age.

“What do you need?” Rhodi asks, looking Simmons up and down and seeing no injuries on him.

“I came to see Nick,” Simmons explains, holding up the scanning device. “Yttri asked me to get some measurements for his arm.”

Rhodi’s eyes widen when he sees the device. “She let you take that with you?” he asks disbelievingly.

“Uh, yeah,” Simmons answers uncertainly. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“No,” Rhodi shrugs, “just unusual.” He points to the only occupied cot in the room. “He’s doing better now that Carolina has started visiting him. Go do whatever Yttri needs.”

Simmons nods and walks toward the injured man. He freezes for a second when he sees the many layers of bandages still wrapped around his shoulder. He remembers when Grif looked like that, before Sarge gave the Hawaiian his own arm. Simmons shudders. That whole experience was something he could do without remembering.

“Hey, it’s the shirtless cyborge,” Nick says happily as a form of greeting.

Simmons blushes instantly, remembering the first and last time he’d seen Nick. “That- that wasn’t-“ he stammers.

“I’m just messing with you,” Nick says, laughing as he struggles to sit up. Simmons reaches out to help, but gets waved off. Nick wants to do it for himself; he wants to start learning how to deal with this. “You get embarrassed so easily, though. It’s a lot of fun,” he continues once he’s changed position. “And I bet Yttri loves to see you blush like that.” He wiggles his eyebrows during the last statement, causing the sim-trooper to blush even darker.

“I-um- she asked me to-“ Simmons says helplessly, holding up the scanner.

“Time to assess the damage?” Nick guesses, gesturing to his injured shoulder.

Simmons nods. “I also need to scan your remaining arm,” he explains. “So Yttri can know the right weight and dimensions for your new one.”

Nick nods and holds out his arm expectantly. “Let’s get started then.”

Simmons scans the arm over and over again, trying to get it from every possible angle. He knows the machine will create a full image based on all the scans combined, so he doesn’t want to miss a single part. He doesn’t want to let Yttri down again. He refuses to.

“So,” Nick says after a few minutes of letting his arm be lifted and turned and rescanned in silence. “How are things going with you and Yttrium?”

“Um, we’ve been working together,” Simmons answers, trying to figure out some of the settings on the scanner.

“No, I mean _you_ and _Yttri_ ,” he repeats. “How is that going?”

Simmons doesn’t answer for a moment, instead moving to the other side of Nick’s bed and unwrapping his shoulder. He tries his best not to look at the injury as he begins scanning. It’s mostly healed over, testament to Carolina and her healing unit’s presence, but it’s still gross. For Simmons, the injury is hitting a little too close to home. Eventually he decides to answer Nick, hoping to distract himself.

“I- we’re not-“ Simmons stammers, not sure of how to describe what’s going on between himself and the mechanic.

“Come on, this is the first time anyone in this family has shown any interest in anyone,” Nick pleads. “I’ve been locked in this room for days, so I can’t ask her myself. I want to know what’s going on.”

“Yttri isn’t interested in me,” Simmons says, sounding depressed. He stops scanning the injury and stares at his hands instead. “She- she thinks I’m competent and good to work with, but that’s it.”

Nick stares at him blankly for a few seconds before laughing. The sound causes Simmons head to whip up, a confused look on his face.

“Man, you must be really dumb,” Nick comments, wiping a laughter induced tear away from his eye. When Simmons gives him a confused stare, he sighs. “You really don’t understand how Yttri thinks, do you?”

“What?” Simmons asks.

“This thing,” Nick says, snatching the scanner from Simmons’ hands. “If Yttri knew I was even touching this, she would beat my head in,” he explains, only partially joking. “But she’s letting you use it. Not only that, but she’s letting you take it out of the lab and out of her sight. That’s a big deal.”

“She trusts me to use her stuff,” Simmons says. “That doesn’t mean she likes me.”

“Yttri loves her tools,” Nick explains. “And she loves her inventions. She doesn’t let anyone use them unless she absolutely trusts them. Hell, it took me a week to convince her to let me fly the pelican after she put the new engines in it!” He pointed at Simmons as he added, “If she trusts you with them, it means something.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Simmons insists, though he doesn’t sound too certain. “Maybe it does. I don’t know,” he finishes miserably. “If she really does like me, why hasn’t she said anything?”

“Chances are it hasn’t even occurred to her,” Nick answers thoughtfully. “Yttri sometimes has trouble understanding how people think. She can’t take them apart and see how everything fits together like she can with machines, so she usually decides it’s too much effort. The most likely scenarios are that she either doesn’t realize how she feels about you, or she hasn’t realized that it’s the type of thing she should tell you.”

“Then how do you know she likes me?” Simmons demands.

“’Cause she’s my sister,” Nick says with full confidence. “I’ve known Yttrium my whole life, and I’ve never seen her seek out company like she does with you before. She actually wants to spend time with you. She asks you to go help her every day!”

“Maybe she just needs help,” Simmons proposes uncertainly.

Nick shakes his head, laughing again. “She doesn’t need help fixing or building things,” Nick says. “She might need an extra set of hands to hold stuff from time to time, but she’s never once in her life asked for help. Not until you came along.

“Look, Yttri might not be great at showing it, but she does like you. Just, keep doing what you’re doing. Eventually she’ll figure it out.”

Simmons nods. “I wasn’t going to give up,” he says embarrassedly.

“Good,” Nick says as he lays back down, smiling. “I think she deserves a guy like you.”

 

* * *

 

“Where?” Rho asks impatiently, deciding she’s had enough of her brother’s riddles. “Where is she?”

“The same place she made you,” Church answers, unable to contain his excitement. “The place where you were first given to her, where she put you together.”

Rho cocks her head to the side in confusion. “Our old base?”

“No, not there,” Church says quickly. “There’s another base, an abandoned Covenant base that she and the Director found when they were younger. They used to go there to work together before they were recruited by the UNSC. After they both started their projects, it’s where they would meet up to trade supplies and share information.”

“What makes you think she’d hide there?” Rho asked skeptically.

“Well, it’s one of a lot of places she could hide,” Church admits. “But it’s the only other facility where she could have made those copies Silver told me about. It’s the only place where she could have staged an attack like that.”

“Are you sure she’ll be there?” Rho asks. She doesn’t want to get Silver’s hopes up for nothing, especially not now.

“It’s what I’d bet on,” Church answers after some thought. “She has to have at least been there at some point in order to make the copies. If she doesn’t think we know about the base, I don’t see a reason for her to leave.”

Rho falls silent for a while, thinking. She’s not sure if they’re up for another mission right now. Nick is still recovering, Silver’s started to come back out of her shell but is clearly still dealing with Lico’s death, and everyone else is just plain scared. Still, they have Carolina with them now, which means they’re much stronger than they were before. And Rho knows that after the last attack, they’re all eager for a victory, as well as some sort of revenge. She herself can’t wait to finally get her metaphorical hands on Dr. Han.

In the end, it’s time that makes the decision for her. She knows the longer they wait, the less likely it is they’ll find Dr. Han there, if she was ever at that base in the first place. Rho decides it’s worth the risk.

“We should tell Silver,” she finally says, looking at Church again. “If there’s a chance Dr. Han is hiding there, we can’t pass it up. We need to catch her.”


	50. Baby Steps

I step into my room at the end of the day, tired from having helped organize the still barely settled into base and mediating half a dozen arguments that I know are mostly based around stress and fear. All I hope for is to be able to get some sleep. Instead, I’m ambushed by two AIs floating at eye level.

Part of me is annoyed, but I know Rho wouldn’t bother me unless it’s important, not with how much she’s been avoiding me lately. I know I shouldn’t blame her. I’m the one who hasn’t managed to fully trust her yet. I hope she doesn’t feel bad, hope she understands that it’ll take time.

“I take it you two are up to something,” I say, trying to sound joking around my exhaustion. I think I could fall asleep standing before I reach the bed even though it’s just a few feet away. Of course, a few words from Church and that all changes.

“I know where Dr. Han is.”

At those words, I’m alert, eyes wide and expectant for him to continue.

“See, I figured it out while fixing Rho-“

“What?” I interrupt immediately. I turn to look at the more familiar AI, concerned. “What did he fix? What was wrong?”

“Not much,” Church answers for her. “She’d fixed most of it by herself already, actually. She’s pretty smart.”

I don’t know if Church sees it, but I’ve known Rho long enough that, even though she isn’t connected to me at the moment, I can tell she’s pleased with the compliment.

“And you’re okay now?” I persist, looking at Rho for an answer.

“I’m fine,” she says happily. “Better than ever before, actually.”

“Good,” I say, nodding. “I’ve been getting so lost in this new base. I could really use my old navigator,” I add, trying to show my relief through the joke.

“I’ll be happy to help,” she chirps, shifting to float over my shoulder even though she’s still in the base’s computers.

“Anyway,” Church says, sounding annoyed. Once he has both our attention again, he continues. “I think Dr. Han’s at an old Covenant base. I have the coordinates, as well as a map of the place. We should make a plan and go catch her.”

“You sound awfully eager,” I observe.

“Well, now that I remember her, I also remember what a complete bitch she is. I mean, she helped the Director with some of his theories that eventually lead to his idea for AI fragmentation. He would have come up with it himself eventually, but she still helped,” the blue AI explains. “Add to that everything she’s done to you guys, and the fact that she wants to start another war… I can’t really think of anyone who wouldn’t want to hunt her down.”

I smile at him. “Alright. We’ll need some time to plan this thoroughly, decide who’s going and who’s staying…”

“She might have more copies there,” Rho says. “Church thinks this is the base where she made them, so there’s a good chance she’ll have made more.”

“Which means this is an armor only mission,” I say thoughtfully. “Even with Carolina here now, we’re still probably going to be outnumbered.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Church says, waving his hand like it’s no issue. “You’ve got two AIs to think for you now, as well as two Freelancers. This’ll be easy.”

I wish I could believe him, but I doubt I’ll ever be able to feel fully confident in a plan ever again. “Don’t underestimate mom,” I warn him. “Or Gold. She’s smart and cruel, and he’s stronger than you’d think to look at him. They’re a formidable pair.”

“We can still take them,” Church says confidently. “Don’t worry.”

 

* * *

 

I do worry, though. I worry about a lot of things. I worry about who will be going on the mission, and what I can do to ensure their safety. I worry about who will be staying behind, and if mom might send someone to attack our base while we’re gone. I worry about what we’ll do if mom isn’t there. I worry about Carolina, and taking her on a mission with us when I’m still not sure if I trust her. I think I do; I don’t think she’ll hurt us, but I also don’t know how she operates in the field. A mission with her could be a risk.

I also worry about Wash, who I’m not sure if I can still even call that. I know I want him to have my back for this mission. I trust him, just like Manny did. I don’t know, however, if he wants to fight with me anymore. He’s still giving me the cold shoulder, keeping his distance. I can understand it, really I can. I hurt him, and even if he thinks it was unintentional, he still wants to avoid me. I can understand that perfectly. It doesn’t change the fact that I want him to get over it and talk to me again. I don’t want things to end like this.

I loop through all these thoughts over and over again in my head until it starts to spin. It takes me a moment to realize that the dizziness isn’t my imagination.

“Do you need to see Rhodi?” Rho asks, popping up on my shoulder. Beneath her concern I can feel overwhelming joy at the fact that I’m carrying her again. I know she hated feeling like I didn’t trust her just as much as I hated not being able to. We’re both glad we can settle into this old habit again.

“No,” I shake my head, adding to the slight dizziness. “I’m just tired,” I lie.

Rho folds her arms, clearly not buying it. “And a little dehydrated,” she adds. “And you haven’t eaten yet today.”

I smile fondly at her worrying. “What would I do without you to pester me?” I muse.

“Die of thirst, hunger, and exhaustion,” she answers with conviction. “Now come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

“Later,” I insist. “I’m heading to go see Nick.”

“Can’t that wait?”

“No,” I answer, rounding a corner toward the infirmary. “I haven’t visited him yet today, and I promised I would.”

“Nick would understand if you were a little late,” Rho pointed out, floating in front of my face in an attempt to stop me.

“This isn’t just about checking up on him,” I explain. “I need his advice.”

Rho seems like she’ll argue for a second, then nods. “Do you want me to log off?” she asks as we reach the infirmary’s door.

“I would like to talk to him alone,” I admit. I don’t want to push her away, not when we’re just starting to trust each other again, but sometimes it’s difficult to hold a conversation with someone else in your head.

“I understand,” she says. Her avatar flashes in front of a terminal next to the door. “Plug me in here so I can keep planning,” she requests.

I nod, waiting until she withdraws from my mind before pulling her. She pops back up once she’s in the computer, avatar slightly bigger than what her normal projectors would allow comfortably. “Just remember to take me with you when you leave,” she says as I enter the infirmary.

When I step into the infirmary Rhodi’s sleeping in a chair in the corner. Nick signals for me to be quiet with a finger over his lips before waving me toward him.

“He didn’t want to leave while Carolina was using the healing unit,” he explains in a whisper once I reach him. “And before that he spent hours running in and out of here gathering medical equipment from abandoned sections of the base.”

“When was the last time he slept?” I whisper back, glancing at the teen over my shoulder.

Nick shrugs. “He hasn’t that I’ve seen. I thought he was sleeping whenever I was, but I guess I was wrong.”

“He hasn’t wanted to leave your side,” I comment. I feel guilty that I haven’t been checking up on him more, or anyone else in the family for that matter. I haven’t felt right for a long time, and I’ve let it affect my leadership. I need to fix that. I know I do. I just don’t know how I can face them after what happened.

“Tinu says she hasn’t seen him in the mess hall in a while,” Nick adds, unaware of my thoughts. “Or you, for that matter.” The comment catches my attention and I turn back to look at him. “You’ve been distant,” he accuses gently. “Even when you come to see me, you’re quiet. Withdrawn. What’s on your mind?”

I shake my head, wanting to say it’s nothing. I always want to say it’s nothing. Nick’s already dealing with so much, between losing his arm and everything else. It wouldn’t be right for me to burden him with my own problems. I can’t talk to him about this.

“Si,” he says, voice surprisingly forceful for how quiet he is. “I’ve told you before that you can talk to me. Don’t turn me into a liar by refusing.” I meet his eyes and see care and concern, but behind it there’s everything I’m feeling, all the pain and regret and confusion. I realize that this isn’t just for me. It’s for him as well. If we talk, he has a chance to release some of his own thoughts. On top of everything else, there’s now the guilt that I haven’t given him this chance.

“Tell me what’s bothering you,” Nick insists, tying to force a comforting smile.

“Everything,” I finally whisper. With that one word, it’s like a dam broke, and I begin telling Nick all the confused thoughts swirling though my mind. I start with Church’s discovery.

“But that’s good,” Nick says, sitting up straighter when he hears the possibility of finding mom. “Silver, this is a breakthrough. We might finally be able to find her.”

“Or we won’t,” I counter. “She might not be there. And if she is, she might have more copies. There could be hundreds of them waiting for us there. And even if I bring all our best fighters to get past them, I’ll still be leaving everyone at base unprotected. She could send another army, and then…” I trail off, unable to voice that fear. “The last time I left, everything went to shit. I don’t want to risk that again. I’m afraid to do anything.”

Nick’s hand finds mine, prompting me to look up from where I’d been staring at my knees and focus on his face. “You know we have to try,” he says gently. “It’s like you’ve said before, we can’t run forever. We don’t want to. Finding mom is the only way to clear our names.”

“But what if the mission goes bad?” I plead, begging for an answer.

“Then we deal with it,” Nick says simply. “We adapt, like we always have. You got us out when mom left. You hid us when we were being hunted, and you went out and found everyone who was still missing. I know you can do this.”

“At least one of us does,” I say miserably.

Nick’s hand finds my shoulder and starts pulling me toward him. It’s an awkward hug, since he’s half laying down and half sitting up and I’m too short to lean across the hospital bed properly and I’m trying to not touch his shoulder that I still can’t make myself look at, but despite all that it’s exactly what I need. I hug him back as hard as I dare, wishing I could never leave this moment. For a few seconds I let myself stop being the strong one and I let my brother comfort me.

“I know you’re scared,” Nick says, voice catching in his throat. “We all are. And we’re all sad. But we can’t give up now. Not with all we’ve been through. We’ve come too far and lost too much to stop pushing ahead.”

Nick finally lets me go and I pull back, wiping a few stray tears from my eyes. “I know,” I say, nodding. “I just don’t want to lose anyone else.”

“I can’t guarantee we won’t,” Nick admits. “But we have to take that chance. None of us want to keep living like this.”

I nod, still not wanting to accept it. I wish I could believe that we could just stay hidden forever, but I know it’s not true. The Covenant will never stop hunting us. Not unless we give them someone else to blame.

“Rhodi says I should be better in a few days, thanks to Carolina and her healing unit,” Nick says, breaking the silence. “In fact, he says I’m well enough that he’s willing to attach my new arm, once Yttri’s done making it. I should be back in fighting shape soon enough. Maybe I can go on the mission with you.”

“Yeah,” I say, trying to sound confident again. “Maybe you can.”

“Of course, if I’m going then Tinu will be too,” Nick continues, sounding like we’re planning a family outing instead of a mission. “I assume Carolina will want to come. And of course Wash will be there to watch your back.”

I don’t say anything in response to his comment. I don’t think I do anything at all, really. Still, somehow Nick notices something, a slight shift in my demeanor or change in breathing, and he knows something’s wrong.

“Do you think he won’t?” he asks, sounding genuinely confused. “He’s been really helpful since he got here, especially toward you. I thought he was your friend.”

“He is,” I say, sounding lost. “Or was. I don’t know anymore. It’s… been weird between us.” Nick gives me a look, and I know he won’t let the matter drop that easily, so I keep talking. I explain everything, from how much I’ve grown to trust and rely on the former Freelancer to that day in the training room. Of course, Nick doesn’t look surprised by any of it.

“You knew,” I say as soon as I realize it.

“I suspected,” Nick corrects. “I couldn’t be sure, but I saw how he acted around you, how protective he was. I knew he cared, at least.” My face must have turned accusing, because he quickly defended, “I tried to warn him away. I did. Wash just wouldn’t listen.”

I sigh, shoulders sagging. “You know why it wouldn’t work.”

“Of course I know,” Nick agrees, voice almost bitter. “It keeps me up at night, how much I know. I also know you wouldn’t want him to go through that.”

“I hate this,” I whisper, hoping he won’t hear.

Nick’s hand is on my shoulder again, resting gently. “Wash will get over it,” he assures me. “And he’ll still want to fight with you. He agreed to follow you. This doesn’t change that.”

I nod again, ready for this conversation to end. I don’t want to think about Wash anymore. This was all a lot simpler when I still knew how to lie to myself.

“Thank you,” I say, hugging Nick again. “I know I shouldn’t bug you with this. I just…”

“I asked you to,” Nick interrupts. “I like talking to you, and I like giving advice,” he points out. I see a twinkle in his eyes and remember that, on occasion, he’s an even bigger gossip than Tinu.

“This stays between us,” I warn jokingly. I’m not serious, of course. I know he would never betray my trust by talking about this with anyone.

Nick nods, making a comically thoughtful face. “Us,” he agrees. “And Tinu, and Donut, and Rubi…”

I roll my eyes. We both know that between those three the whole base would know any secret within minutes.

 

* * *

 

Yttri spends breakfast the next morning informing everyone in the mess hall that if they so much as talk to her today she will personally rip their hearts out. At least, that’s how Tinu describes it. Yttrium’s actual words are “don’t bother me, I’ll be working.” Tinu likes her version better. She thinks it’s more dramatic.

Simmons barely has time to tell Sarge he’ll be busy before she’s dragging him away from the sim-troopers’ table. After days of planning and gathering supplies, they finally have everything they need to start building Nick’s arm.

The work starts with melting down and reshaping plates of a metal Simmons hasn’t seen before. Yttri informs him it’s an alloy she made herself, mixing a few types that aren’t found on earth. It’s very light in Simmons’ hands, but surprisingly strong. Even with heating it to the point of glowing, Simmons still finds himself relying on the strength in his own inorganic arm to bend the metal.

The next step is laying out wiring that Yttri had made the day before. Once all supplies are gathered on the table, Yttri sets to work.

Simmons hovers by her elbow, waiting to retrieve tools or hand her the next part necessary. He shields his eyes against sparks when she begins welding, surprised the mechanic refuses to wear gloves or a mask. Yttri claims they make her less accurate. Simmons just hopes she won’t hurt herself. He eventually backs up the few feet necessary to lean against a wall, lunging forward off it when she asks for his help again. He loses track of time amidst the sounds of Yttri building, watching her hands move rapidly around hot metal and sharp edges.

It’s mesmerizing, he finds, watching her work. It’s different from the times she’s repaired something before. There’s a new light in Yttri’s eyes, reflecting the joy she feels when she creates something. Simmons can’t stop staring. He decides after a few minutes that he doesn’t want to stop. He’s never seen her more beautiful than this.

He jolts awake many hours later, having dozed off while leaning against the wall. It’s Yttri’s voice that wakes him, calling his name.

“Simmons,” she calls, soft and teasing.

It’s the first time Simmons can remember that she’s used his real name, and she sounds much closer than she usually stands. He opens his eyes to see her studying his face from a few inches away.

“Y-yttri,” he gasps nervously, standing up straighter and blushing, embarrassed that he fell asleep while working. He glances at a clock on the wall and realizes that it’s past midnight. They’ve been working all day.

“Come look,” she says, sounding almost childlike in her excitement. She grabs his hand, which instantly causes Simmons to blush, and pulls him toward the table. On it is an exact replica of an arm, everything perfect save for the bluish silver color. Simmons leans closer and sees lines on the palms and fingers where a humans skin would crease, marveling at the exact details.

“What do you think?” Yttri asks, standing back to watch his reaction with tired eyes.

Simmons turns to face her, eyes wide with amazement. “It’s beautiful,” he says wonderingly. “I’ve never seen anything like this, Yttri. It’s perfect.”

Yttri smiles slightly at the praise and steps forward to join him by the table. “It is pretty nice,” she agrees, leaning against Simmons side and yawning. He hesitates for a moment before putting an arm around her shoulder. He thinks she’ll push him away, but to Simmons surprise and joy she presses further into the embrace. “I was going to use synthetic skin, but I thought Nick would prefer something flashy,” Yttri continues, more yawns interrupting her words.

“You should go to bed,” Simmons advises, using his arm around the mechanic to keep her standing.

Yttri shakes her head. “I need to work on the shoulder some more,” she insists. “I want to start the attachment tomorrow and it’s not ready.”

“It can wait until morning,” Simmons says, guiding her toward the door. Yttri tries to drag her feet and he sighs. “You won’t get any work done if you fall asleep in here anyway,” he reasons.

Yttri starts to protest before cutting herself off with a yawn. Realizing that she’s effectively argued against herself, she grudgingly agrees. “Fine.”

Simmons walks her to the door, finally letting go when they have to go different directions down the hall. He wonders what it means, that she leaned on him and let him hug her, and tells himself not to blow things out of proportion. He tries to reason with himself that she was just tired, and probably didn’t even realize what she was doing. He still spins back around faster than he would have thought possible when Yttri speaks up.

“Hey, Cyborge,” she says, still facing him in the hall. Once Simmons is looking at her again, she smiles. “Thanks,” she says simply.

“No-no problem,” Simmons stammers, smiling back.

“Goodnight,” Yttri finally whispers before walking toward her own room.


	51. Before we go...

Church hovers over a table, pointing out locations on a holographic map while generally sounding superior and ‘leaderly’. At least, that’s what he said he’s doing. The superior part is coming across alright, but I doubt it’s having the effect he intended. His born leader act seems to be gathering some annoyance from his audience, especially a few sim-troopers. Luckily, Rho is there to step in and act as a buffer from time to time.

The map’s pretty good, at least. Aside from a few hazy areas, it’s very detailed. That’s only natural, though. The Director visited the base it represents hundreds of times, and Church pieced the map together from his memories.

“This lab is where the Director usually worked,” Church explains, hovering over a highlighted room. “And this is where Dr. Han handled most of her experiments,” he continues, pointing to a different room. “There’s no guarantee she hasn’t set up in another part of the base, but considering that all the equipment she needs would have already been there, I’d say it’s a good bet that this is her base of operations.”

Rho cuts in at this point, having read from a few faces in the crowd that they needed a break from Church’s voice. “This is a rather large facility,” she says, appearing at the other AI’s side.

Somewhere in the back of the audience there’s a muttered “bow chicka bow wow,” followed by a grunt as an elbow finds its way to the speaker’s ribs.

“We think,” Rho continues, ignoring the brief commotion, “that most of the base will be closed off and without power. This means, hopefully, that those sections will be easy to sneak through.”

“Now, in the past, Dr. Han and the Director always used the main hangar at the front, here,” Church takes over again, marking the area. “But there’s actually a secondary landing strip in the back.” Another whispered catchphrase and pained grunt. “Team one, consisting of Washington, Silver, Rho, Carolina, and myself will land here and sneak into the base. Meanwhile team two, consisting of Platinum, Nickel, and Doc, will secure the main hangar so no one can escape.”

“Once inside, team one will split up,” Rho explains. “Silver, Wash, and I will search this half of the base, while Carolina and Church will take the other,” she says, a side of the base highlighting when she indicates. “We’ll meet up in the main lab. Doc will stay with Nick and Tinu, and be ready to go help anyone who needs it.”

“There’s a chance this base will turn out to be abandoned, but just to be safe we’re going in prepared for an army,” Church finishes.

Sensing that they’ve finished their presentation, I step in. “This is a no-kill mission,” I say, looking at the group gathered around the table, eyes lingering on Carolina a bit longer than anyone else. “Gold’s a victim, like us, and we need mom alive to clear our names.”

“Understood,” Carolina says. I can’t tell of she’s offended by the way I singled her out, but I doubt it. I have a feeling she understands my need to be clear on this matter.

I nod, studying the map for a few more seconds. “Okay,” I finally say. “We have a plan. We leave tomorrow.”

The hologram of the base disappears and Church flashes to Carolina’s shoulder. Everyone gathered in the conference room begins to disperse, creating a small traffic jam around the door. Most of them seem to be in a hurry, even those who aren’t going on the mission. I guess they all have something important they want to do before such a big event, whether they’ll be involved in said event or not. Still, I have a suspicion that the teens who snuck into the meeting just want to go gossip the news to everyone else.

I wait until the majority of the crowd has gone before stepping toward the door. The moment my feet move I get hit by a wave of dizziness. I stumble, reaching out a hand in an attempt to catch the edge of the table before I fall. Nick and Tinu each jump toward me, but before they can make it I feel a hand on my elbow steadying me. I wait a moment, letting the spinning in my head slow, before looking up to see who caught me.

“Are you okay?” Wash asks, a touch of concern bleeding into the otherwise impassive tone.

“Just caught my foot on the table,” I fib. I look up into his eyes, feeling overly aware of the hand still on me. “I’m fine.”

Wash’s hand falls away just a bit too quickly as he breaks eye contact. “Good,” he says, stepping away. He leaves before I can say anything else. I wish he’d have let me thank him, a least.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Nick asks as he steps up beside me, and I can feel the brotherly concern in every word.

“Yes,” I insist, meeting his eyes steadily. I know he’s studying me for any sign that I haven’t told the truth. I won’t show him any. He doesn’t need to be worrying about me right now.

“Okay,” he says, still sounding skeptical. “Anyway, Tinu and I are about to go spar. I want to practice with my new arm a bit more before the mission tomorrow. Wanna come watch?” He looks eager, like a kid wanting to show off a new toy, which is really the perfect analogy for how he’s been treating the new arm.

“Yttri really outdid herself,” I comment, looking at the shining appendage. “Are you sure it’s ready for combat, though? Are you?”

“Rhodi said I’m good to go,” Nick confirmed. He stretched his arm out a few times before flexing and rolling the shoulder. “The movement’s good. It actually feels pretty awesome. Weight’s the same as my real one was, so I’m balanced. The only difference is that this arm is much stronger.” Halfway through talking he starts staring at his hand, curling his fingers and watching the way they move.

“You look like Tinu when she paints her nails,” I laugh.

Nick suddenly holds his hand I front of his face, fingers splayed dramatically. “But don’t they just look so pretty?” he asks, copying his partner’s voice.

“I do not sound like that,” Tinu insists, voice hitting the exact pitch Nick’s had. We both start laughing as she folds her arms in a pretend pout. The truth is she hasn’t been able to stop smiling since Nick got his new arm and started walking around three days ago.

I smile, glad we can still have moment like this despite all that’s happened, and everything we still have to do.

“Anyway, do you want to come watch or not?” Nick asks. His voice carries all the impatient energy of the young man he’s supposed to be.

“I can’t,” I answer regretfully. “There’s still some stuff I need to take care of before tomorrow.”

“Don’t work yourself too hard,” Tinu advises in a rare moment of seriousness. “We can’t have you sleeping on your feet during the mission.”

“I won’t,” I promise, though I doubt they’re convinced. “Look, I just need to talk to some people. Easy work. Nothing to worry about.”

“Just be safe,” Nick says, hugging me. I can tell he’s being extra careful of his new arm, keeping the strength in check.

“I will,” I say, knowing the instruction isn’t for today and knowing my promise is empty at best.

They leave and I do a quick turn to see who else is still in the room. Grif and Tucker are standing in the corner talking about something, and from the way Grif’s rolling his eyes I guess it doesn’t have to do with the mission. I approach the pair and they each turn to face me, standing a little bit straighter. I hadn’t expected that. It’s not a sign of friendship, but respect. It’s something I’ve never seen them show anyone before, not even their commanding officers. I’m surprised by the gesture, but recover quickly.

“Are you alright?” I ask, noting how Tucker seems to be favoring one side.

“I think Tinu cracked one of my ribs,” he admits, rubbing the spot where she’d elbowed him before. “And, y’know, not in a fun way,” he adds with a grin.

I roll my eyes, but decide to let the comment slide. At least for the moment. “You two are going to be staying here during the mission,” I inform them.

“Yeah, we know,” Grif says, sounding bored. “Which kind of makes me wonder why we got dragged all the way down here to hear the briefing if we won’t even be going.”

“I wanted you to know the plan so you could better gauge if something goes wrong,” I answer. “You both stepped up during the attack. Honestly, I hadn’t expected that much from either of you, but you proved me wrong, along with the rest of your teams. I want you to keep an eye on things here while I’m gone tomorrow. You know how long the mission should last. If we’re not back within a two hour margin of that, I want you to take everyone to one of these alternate bases.” I hadn’t them each a holo-pad with a list of coordinates on them.

“I don’t want to risk what happened last time happening again.”

“Uh, are you sure we’re the ones you want handling this?” Grif asks slowly.

I nod. “Like I said, you’ve proven yourselves. I need someone with good instincts keeping an eye on things around here. I’ve already told Donut, Simmons, and Sarge the same thing. You guys are in charge while I’m gone.”

“Uh…” Grif says, drawing out the sound uncertainly. “We’ll do our best,” he ventures, managing to make the sentence sound almost like a question.

“I know you will,” I say confidently. “I trust you.”

 

* * *

 

Despite what I said, I find myself sitting in the ceiling above the training room, watching Tinu and Nick fight. It’s an amazing sight. Tinu’s an artist, her attacks like a dance, grace and balance leading to beautifully fluid motion. Meanwhile, Nick fights like a machine, each move precise and carefully calculated, using the strength in his new arm to efficiently counter Tinu’s powerful blows. They’re a perfect balance for each other; instinct and logic, passion and reason.

It gives me hope for tomorrow. I was afraid at first when Rho told me her plan to have them guard the hangar. I didn’t like the chance that they might face enemies on their own, especially since we know Gold might be there. But she reminded me of how well they work together, and that Gold’s just one person. I’m still not sure if they could handle him on their own. I hope I won’t have to find out. Still, I’m confident they’d survive the encounter, even if they can’t stop him. I know they’ll be okay.

From this vantage point I can see the hallways surrounding the training room. I watch as people pass by. There’s a nervous energy to their steps. They all know that whatever happens tomorrow, it’ll be big. Some look excited, others scared. A few stop and glance up at me. Word seems to have spread fast that this is my new thinking spot.

I see one person who’s different from the rest. There’s none of the usual energy in his gate. Instead, his shoulders seem weighed down, dragging at him in a way I’ve grown far too familiar with. There’s something deliberate in the way he doesn’t look up at my perch as he passes, neck stiffening to ensure his head won’t turn my way. He’s clearly avoiding me.

I sigh, beginning my descent to the ground. I know I should just let him go. I should leave well enough alone. All of this will be over soon, anyway. It doesn’t matter.

Except it does. This matters to me. Even if we never see each other again after this mission, which I know is a fair possibility, I still can’t stand to let it end like this. I can’t stand knowing he’ll hate me for the rest of his life.

I catch up with Wash in an abandoned hall, grabbing his shoulder hastily to stop him. He doesn’t turn my way, doesn’t acknowledge me any further than stopping. Part of me is glad. I don’t want to see the veiled pain there anymore.

“We’re going to be partners tomorrow,” I say, finally breaking the silence. It does nothing for the tension, though. “Are you okay with that?”

I half expect him to not respond, but he does. “Our fighting styles complement each other. It’s a good choice,” he says.

“But are you okay with it?” I repeat, knowing he’s avoiding the real question.

“I agreed to help,” he answers. “I’ll do the job you’ve given me. That’s all there is to it.”

We both know that’s a lie. There’s so much more to this, so much more going on here. Neither of us want to say it. He wants to act like it’s okay. I should let him. I’ve lied to myself for a long time. I have no right to deny someone else that luxury. But right now isn’t the time for luxuries. If I have to do one willfully selfish thing in my life, I suppose it will be this.

“Dammit, Wash, will you just talk to me,” I finally snap, sick of the silence and absolutely done with being ignored. “I know you’re mad, and I’m sorry. I just wish you’d say something.”

He doesn’t speak for a while, and I almost leave. His quiet voice anchors me to the ground. “I’m not mad,” Wash says, voice barely above a whisper. I wait for him to continue. “I’m not mad,” he repeats, louder. “I can’t be angry just because you don’t feel the same way I do. But that… that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I insist. “I wish this could have happened differently.”

“So do I,” he says almost bitterly. He begins to walk away, my hand falling from his shoulder, and I call out to him.

“Wash,” I say, begging, pleading for him to help me reconcile.

“Washington,” he corrects in a monotone, not even bothering to glance at me. “Let’s just do the mission tomorrow and get this over with,” he suggests. I don’t stop him as he disappears around a corner, leaving me with nothing but his scent in the air. I used to think it was a comforting thing, being able to sense a person’s presence eve after they’ve left. Now it just makes me feel sick. I walk the opposite direction from Washington, determined to find a section of the base that won’t remind me of him.


	52. Here We Go

I check my weapons for the third time in ten minutes. My DMR is ready and loaded in my hands, my pistol’s on my hip, I have plenty of extra ammo, one of Yttri’s stunners is on my back, and there are enough knives circling my waist to count as extra armor. I’m ready. I know I am. That doesn’t seem to help the nervousness.

The hangar looks different today that the last time we left for a mission, and not just because it’s a different place. No one’s here excitedly helping prep the ships. No one’s come to wish us good luck. Last time everyone was expecting us to come back with Gold. This time, I doubt they expect us to come back at all.

There’s no ramp leading into Carolina’s ship, just a three foot drop to the hangar’s floor. My feet swing absentmindedly over the ledge as I wait for the rest of my team. Nick’s getting a last minute checkup from Rhodi and Yttrium. Doc’s in the infirmary with them, double and triple checking his medical bag for supplies. Tinu’s probably saying a tear filled goodbye to Donut and promising to bring back a souvenir like this is some sort of vacation and not a mission. Carolina’s standing in a corner of the hangar, arms folded as she and Church discuss something, his avatar illuminating the shadows around her face.

As for Washington, well, I’m not really sure where he is right now. I haven’t seen him since yesterday.

Rho pops up in front of me, standing on my leg with a sympathetic tilt to her head. “You ready?” she asks, a touch of apprehension to her own voice.

I nod. “I’m ready to finally end this,” I say, forcing a smile.

“Church and I agree it’s best if we stay dark as long as possible,” she continues, mimicking my pose by dangling her legs over the edge of my knee. “Y’know, to help with the whole ‘radio silence, stealth’ thing.”

I smile down at her. “You mean our desperate hope to not get shot down before we even reach the base?” I ask.

“Precisely,” Rho says, sounding smug.

I wave a hand through her avatar and feel an annoyed hum in the back of my head in response. “When do you plan to log off?” I ask, hiding a smile as she turns to glare at me.

“Once we reach slipspace,” she answers, flashing out of my reach.

I nod, looking up when I see movement near the hangar doors. Doc waves for a second before sprinting into the pelican. Since it and Carolina’s ship are the only two we have with slipspace engines, they’re our best bet for the mission. It’s an added bonus that the ship mom used to send the copies also has the largest capacity for passengers, so if anything goes wrong it can get everyone out of the base. I guess sometimes fate works in our favor.

Within a few minutes Tinu and Nick arrive. Tinu sprints happily into the ship while Nick veers to meet me.

“Good to go?” I ask, looking up at him.

“Rhodi said I’m healthy and Yttri said the arm’s good,” Nick reports. “I’m as ready for this as I’ll ever be.”

“Nervous?”

Nick nods, a small sigh escaping his lips. “We haven’t seen mom in over a year,” he says. “I haven’t seen Gold in person in nearly six months. Now I might see both in one day.”

“Boron might be there,” I add. Nick doesn’t respond. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

Nick looks down at his feet, shaking his head. “I hate him,” he whispers. I look at him in mild shock. There’s many things I consider Nick capable of, but hate isn’t one f them. “I’ve always hated mom, ever since we were kids. I knew she never cared about us. Boron knew that, too, but he still chose her. He chose her over all of us. I…” Nick trails off for a second, eyes unfocused. “I hope he isn’t there,” he finally admits. “If he is, I think I’ll try to kill him, and I don’t want to kill my brother.”

I nod slowly. I understand how he feels. I’ve never wanted this to turn into a revenge mission. I don’t want us to stoop to mom’s level, never being able to move on from some wrong that was done to us, always wanting to give someone else our pain. I can’t deny, however, that the thought of seeing Dr. Han dead at the end of this has been comforting. It’s not something I like about myself, but it’s true.

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that,” I say.

I jump the short distance down from the ledge, barely keeping my fee under me when they touch the ground. Nick catches me in a desperate hug before I can correct myself. I return the embrace, glad that it’s my turn to comfort him again.

“Let’s not have anything fall apart during this mission,” Nick suggests once he lets me go.

“Agreed,” I say. I smile up at him expectantly. We both know what’s coming next.

Nick takes a few steps back toward the pelican. He waits just long enough that I think he might forget before speaking. “Don’t get killed,” he instructs, grinning.

“Don’t worry,” I say, returning the grin. “I won’t.”

Nick sprints up the ramp into the pelican, and it closes behind him. I won’t see him again until the end of the mission. I try to not be scared by that fact.

A few seconds after Nick disappears, Washington steps into the hangar. We lock eyes for a moment before he turns to Carolina.

“Alright,” the redhead says, snapping her helmet onto her head. “We’re all here. I guess that means it’s time to go.” She looks at me, waiting for my order.

“Right,” I answer, putting on my own helmet.

Wash climbs into the ship first, offering down a hand to pull Carolina up after him. He turns away when I approach, and I end up climbing up on my own. It’s not an issue. I’m more than capable of getting into the ship by myself. Still, it stings; just a sample of what I know I’ve done to him.

Carolina walks to the front of the ship while I radio Nick. “Time to go,” I announce.

“Alright,” Nick answers as I feel the rumble of the ship’s engines starting.

I turn off my radio and know Nick’s done the same. They’ll stay that way for as long as we can keep anyone from knowing we’re in the base. Once we’re spotted, we’ll use them for communication again.

Wash and I each move to one of the ship’s seats, securing the restraints with a small amount of difficulty. This is definitely not a type of ship I’m used to. According to Church, Carolina stole it along with some Freelancer tech from some kind of crime lord. However she came across it, it’s a nice ship.

I can see the cockpit from my seat. I look up and watch the windows flash brightly as we enter slipspace.

 

* * *

 

There’s no sign of activity anywhere on the planet when we arrive, just a lot of snow and ice. The base looks abandoned as well when we see it from the air. Carolina lands us in a relatively flat area near the base’s back entrance. The ship’s landing gear sinks a few feet in the snow before the ship settles.

“What are the chances this ship’ll be buried in snow by the time we get back?” Wash asks, glancing back nervously as the ship closes.

“With the near blizzard out here?” Carolina asks for clarification. When Wash nods, she continues. “I’d guess pretty good. Don’t worry; I’m sure Epsilon will remember where we parked.”

I look to where I know the main hangar is, although I know I couldn’t see it from here, even without the snow. I have no way of knowing if Nick and Tinu have landed yet, or if they met resistance, or if they need any help. Well, that’s not entirely true. Rho’s listening for if they call for help. I’ll know if they need me. That doesn’t lessen how much I hate being away from them on this mission.

“Let’s go,” I say, walking toward the base. We find a door without much difficulty and Carolina manages to get it open, muttering about wishing she’d have listened to someone more. Soon enough the door slides open and we all dodge in out of the snow.

Carolina does little more than wave as she heads off down the hall, beginning the search of her half of the base. I signal for Washington to follow me as we head the other direction.

The base is dark, which we expected of these abandoned sections. It’s also quiet. Our armored boots scrape gently on the ground with each step. I know we’re being as quiet as possible, but it still sound like an alarm to my ears. I can’t shake the feeling that with every step we’re telling mom where we are.

Wash and I fall into a pattern for approaching doors. He stays on the left of the opening, gun drawn and ready, while I work on picking the locks. Once the door opens Wash looks in first, covering me while I run inside. Most of the rooms are empty, while a few have miscellaneous pieces of furniture covered in dust. None of it looks like it’s been seen in years.

It makes me nervous, how easy this has been so far. It doesn’t feel right. I begin to suspect that either this is a trap, or the base is abandoned. It’s just as I suspect this that I hear a noise ahead.

I signal for Wash to be quiet and listen. There’s an odd scraping sound, coming from the next room we plan to search. I sneak closer and see that this door is already open, damage obviously visible where something pried it open. These doors are designed to withstand heavy explosive ordinance, and sealed magnetically. I doubt even Manny would have been able to force one open.

I hear the sound again, scraping and flapping. It doesn’t make sense. I motion for Wash to stay back as I peek around the side of the door. This must have once been a conference room; I see a table and some chairs, turned over and in some cases clawed to pieces. I take one step inside, pistol in one hand and a knife in the other, glancing around cautiously. My foot barely touches the floor of the room before I fall backward, a blur of wings and claws plastered across my face.

I slash upward with my knife. I don’t fire my gun. I don’t want to make that much noise if I can help it. I do really want to get this thing off me, though. I can hear its claws scrape across my armor, the noise sending a jolt down my spine but in no way harming me. I know that whatever this is can’t hurt me. For some reason I still feel panicked, though. I don’t know what it is, and it looks like something in a movie Nick made me watch while we were kids. I don’t like it. I don’t want it near me.

I manage to catch my knife in one of the flailing leathery wings and drag it sideways, drawing an earsplitting screech from the creature. Dark blood splashes onto my faceplate and I can’t see. My movements become wilder with panic caused by blindness. This monster is strong and heavy and _I can’t get it off._

Suddenly the weight lifts from my chest. I hear another screech as the creature slams against a wall, followed by three soft pops from Yttri’s stunner. I drag my hand across my visor, smearing enough blood that I can partially see. The stunner must have fallen off my back when I was knocked down, as Wash is now holding it and standing over the creature.

“You alright?” he asks, offering a hand to pull me to my feet while still aiming the gun at the monster.

“Fine,” I grunt, trying to tamp down on my adrenaline. I join him in staring at the strange creature.

“What the fuck is this?” he whispers, sounding more like he’s speaking to himself than actually asking a question.

“I… think it’s a bat,” I say, crouching down to study it more closely.

“That is not a bat,” Washington insists.

“Well, mostly bat,” I correct. “It looks like mom’s been experimenting.”

“How do you know it’s not just native to the planet?” Wash’s voice is half skepticism and half curiosity.

“See this?” I ask, gesturing with my knife toward a rash-like deformity on the creature’s neck. “A lot of mom’s early, non-human experiments had it. It’s a sign of a deteriorating genetic structure. Whatever she put together to make this didn’t mix well.”

“That’s really fucking creepy,” Wash comments.

“No one ever claimed Dr. Han was sane,” I say in agreement. “Still, this is a good sign. It means she’s here, or at least she was at some point.”

“Do you think we should warn the others about this thing?” Wash asks, offering back the stunner which I wave away. I prefer him having a quiet weapon on hand. I’ll do well enough with my knives. “There could be more in here somewhere.”

There’s a spray of gunfire somewhere further inside the base. “I think they already know,” I say. “If they need help, they’ll radio us. For now, we follow the plan and stay quiet.”

Wash nods. “Let’s get moving, then,” he says, falling into step behind me again.


	53. Eyes Peeled

I wipe as much of the blood off my helmet as I can, but there are still a few spots blocking my vision. I’ll have to clean it when we get back. For now, we need to keep searching.

“That sounds like it’s coming from the hangar,” Washington says in response to a bout of gunfire. It’s the second we’ve heard in the past ten minutes.

I nod, silently nervous. I know Nick and Tinu would radio if they need help. They must just be fighting copies, or monsters like Wash and I ran into. It’s nothing they can’t handle. Of course they’re okay. I don’t know why I feel the need to keep telling myself that.

We planned for this. Tinu and Nick are supposed to keep mom’s attention on the hangar so the rest of us can search the base. If Dr. Han doesn’t know we’re here, she’ll lock herself in her lab and try to wait out the attack. That, or she’ll try to escape and get caught by Tinu and Nick. Either way, we’ll catch her. We just have to stick to the plan.

I round another corner and immediately drop to the floor, shouting a warning to Wash. Something leaps over my head, sliding into the wall behind me. I stand and drive a knife into its throat before it has a chance to recover. Wash fires his DMR past me and takes out a second creature. I study the monsters for a moment, deciding they’re of a more alien origin than the last, before moving on.

There’s an explosion somewhere ahead of us, too close to be in the hangar. I glance at Wash. Carolina shouldn’t be on this side of the base. Something must be wrong. Without a word we both start running.

The closer we get to the center of the base, the more monsters we run into. Eventually these are replaced by copies. Wash soon abandons the stunner in favor of his DMR, choosing speed and accuracy over silence. I follow suite shortly after, firing my pistol rather than throwing knives. Mom must know we’re here by now. The explosion was obvious enough. I doubt a few gunshots will give us away.

I approach a corner cautiously. Before I have a chance to walk past, Nick runs into me. I freeze for a moment, wondering why he isn’t in the hangar, when a bullet hole appears in his forehead, a few drops of blood spraying across my helmet. I turn around in shock to see Wash, pistol still aimed where my brother stood.

“No armor,” he explains as he lowers the gun. “And it still has both arms. That was a copy.”

I look down at the body, realizing that he’s right. The hair’s the wrong length, and it looks considerably younger than my brother, and now that I’m thinking about it I realize his eyes were much harsher than I’ve ever seen Nick’s before. Still, for a moment, I really thought it was him.

“Come on,” Wash says, nudging my shoulder to try to get me to move past the body. “Your real family’s still out there fighting.”

“Right,” I nod, forcing myself to look away.

“Hey, I’m sure they’re fine,” he says, taking the lead for a minute. “They’d tell us if something went wrong, right?”

“Yeah,” I agree, sounding uncertain even to myself. I can’t place what it is, but something feels wrong. Maybe it’s just the fact that Rho hasn’t come online yet. I don’t like not having her watching my back.

I hear a commotion in the next hall and put on a bit more speed. When we get there, I see at least a dozen copies surrounding an aqua figure. Carolina shoots a grappling hook from the front of her pistol and snags one of the copies by the head. She yanks her arm to the side, smacking him into some of his companions. The rest go down with a spray of plasma fire.

“There you are,” she says, stepping out of the circle of bodies. Her tone implies that she’s been looking for us for a while.

“What’s going on?” Wash asks. “Why aren’t you on the other side of the base?”

“I’m trying to get to the hangar,” she answers. “Team two’s been calling for help for a while now.”

“What?” I try to activate my radio but instead hear only static. “Why didn’t we hear them?”

“There are jammers in the base,” she explains. “Epsilon realized it when he tried to help me run my speed unit earlier. Apparently they don’t only stop radio signals, but they prevented our AIs from communicating with us as well. He jumped into a computer to try to deactivate them.”

“How do you know that if he can’t talk to you?” Wash asks.

“After he deactivated the jammer on my side of the base, he came back and told me. Then he went to find the others. Apparently there are three jammers here. He already got the one by the hangar. All that’s left is the one blocking this area.” As Carolina finishes talking our radios come to life.

“Can anyone copy?” Nick’s voice meets my ears. “Gold is in the hangar. I repeat, Gold is here.”

“Nick,” I say, voice filled with both relief and worry. “We hear you. We’re coming, okay?”

“Don’t,” Nick says quickly. “Tinu and I can handle him. He won’t get past us.” There’s a pause, the sound of gunshots filling the radio just before we hear them for ourselves. “He said someone’s guarding mom. Go deal with that. Don’t let her get away.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with him?” I ask. I’ve seen them fight Gold before in training. Gold always won.

There’s a pause before he says, “send Carolina.”

I look at the Freelancer and she nods. “I’m on it,” she says, running in the direction of the hangar with inhuman speed.

“She’s on her way,” I inform the pair. “Just hold on.”

“Got it,” Nick says. “You just make sure mom doesn’t escape.”

“She won’t,” I assure him. “Not this time.” I deactivate the radio and start moving, Wash by my side.

“They’ll be fine,” he says again. “I’m sure between those two and Carolina, they can handle whatever’s going on.”

I nod, not wanting to voice an opinion. I don’t want to keep talking about this. It won’t change the fact that I’m worried and will only serve to make me keep hearing Washington’s voice. I can’t handle hearing him like this, trying to comfort me while still sounding like he doesn’t care. I can’t tell which is the lie. I probably don’t want to know.

We give up searching every room. We know where mom is. We just need to get to her lab. I try to picture it in my mind. She’ll be there, grey hair pulled into a bun as always, eyes holding the usual level of critical disappointment, or maybe anger this time. All I know is that she’ll be there. I hold that image clear in my mind, willing it to be reality as I round another corner, counting down the number of halls left until we reach her.

Of course, there’s one thing I didn’t count on. Someone I forgot to imagine. He’s standing in the middle of the wide corridor, the glow of a malfunctioning man-canon on his left illuminating his face as he blocks me from the shortest path to Dr. Han.

“I knew you’d show up eventually,” Boron says, aiming an assault rifle in my direction. “Mom wasn’t sure you’d find us, but I knew you would. You’re just too stubborn.”

I glare at him without responding. All the hurt and betrayal I feel melts into fury. Boron, for his part, seems content to let me seethe for a moment. He isn’t attacking. I know he must be buying time. Mom must have some plan to escape, and he’s just trying to slow us down. I won’t let that work.

“Washington,” I say, keeping my eyes fixed on my brother as I address the man at my side. “Go get Dr. Han. I’ll deal with this.”

“Are you sure?” Wash asks, backing away uncertainly.

“Go,” I repeat, voice sharper.

“Alright.” Wash only hesitates for another second before he turns around, taking a longer path to the lab.

“Just you and me then,” Boron observes, a smirk evident in his voice. I take a moment to size up his armor. It’s a cheap imitation of what I’m wearing, and I wonder for a moment if he realizes it’s a fake. His gun looks like the real deal, though, and I’m certain he’s willing to shoot to kill.

 _Help me stay ahead of him_ , I think, directing the thought toward Rho. I feel her answering agreement before charging toward my brother.

 

* * *

 

Nick ducks inside the pelican, letting the hull take a few bullets meant for him. He peeks out and sees Tinu crouched behind a metal crate, a few dead copies around her. She shoots him a thumbs up before leaning back out of cover, firing the stunner again. Nick follows suit, trying to get Gold in the leg with his sniper rifle.

Nick ducks back again when a knife flies by his face. “Not cool, dude!” he shouts out.

“It’s not nearly as bad as siding with Silver,” Gold argues. Nick can’t help but wonder at how different his voice is now. There’s a rasp to it, like he never stops shouting, and it’s filled with such a dark anger it’s nearly unrecognizable as belonging to the brother Nick remembers.

“Because it makes no sense to be loyal to the woman who’s saved my life more times than I can count,” Nick throws back, aiming the rifle again. He swivels the sights back and forth across the room, but can’t find Gold anywhere. _Fucking active camo_ , he thinks, looking out for the distinctive shimmer while keeping his aim focused around Tinu. He knows Gold will most likely try to get past her cover and attack. Nick plans to stop him before he has the chance.

There’s a faint flicker of light over Tinu’s crouched form and Nick fires. The bullet seems to disappear in mid air, and there’s a shout of pain. Tinu spins while rising to her feet, driving both fists into where Gold’s chest should be. The action’s followed by a grunt, and the sound of armor scraping across a concrete floor. Gold flickers back to existence, blood running down his left arm and a dent in the front of his armor.

Tinu takes a hasty step toward him, then stops herself. She points the stunner at his chest instead, ignoring her instinct to run to his aid. “Get up,” she orders, her normally cheery voice now stern.

Gold rises to his feet slowly, refusing to put weight on his injured arm as he pushes off the ground. Once standing he turns to face halfway between Tinu and Nick.

“Pelican, now,” Tinu orders, nodding to where Nick is standing on the ship’s ramp.

Gold hobbles a few steps toward Nick before suddenly straightening, swinging his left fist into his sister’s head. Tinu barely backs away from the attack in time, only to find a foot rushing toward her gut. She doesn’t manage to get away from that one and doubles over as the air is forcefully knocked out of her. Nick fires again but misses as Gold once again fades from view.

“Tinu,” Nick calls, searching for Gold futilely. “Tinu, are you okay?”

“Fine,” she grunts, rising to her feet unsteadily. She takes a step toward Nick before freezing.

“Tinu?” he says in confusion before noticing the shimmering outline of a hand on her shoulder, and the matching outline of a blade at her throat. “Let her go,” he demands, aiming at the spot just above her shoulder where he assumes Gold’s head is.

“Put it down,” Gold counter orders. He presses the invisible blade into her throat with just enough pressure to cut through the under-armor. “Do it or she’s dead.”

Nick begins to obey, lowering the gun away from where his brother is standing. He can’t risk it. He can’t lose his partner. His fingers almost release the gun when his eyes catch movement. A figure, nearly invisible for how well their armor changes color to blend into the background, is silently making their way toward Gold. Nick smiles inside his helmet and tightens his grip on the gun again.

“I said drop it,” Gold repeats, recognizing the flexing fingers. “I know you don’t want her to die.”

“And I know you don’t want to kill her,” Nick says, tone turning pleading as he tries to distract his brother. “Please, just let her go. Come with us.”

“He won’t listen,” Tinu says, fear evident in her voice. “Don’t even bother.”

Gold laughs. “She’s right, I won’t listen to traitors. Just put down your gun so I can kill you both and go find Silver.”

“Not gonna happen,” a voice snaps behind him. As she speaks Carolina slaps a small disc onto Gold’s back, causing him to fade into view as his armor shuts down. His joints lock in place, preventing him from following through on his threat.

Gold screams in rage, pushing against his frozen armor as he tries to kill Tinu. She presses back against his chest plate to get away from the knife and drops down out of his grip. Nick sprints out of the ship and hugs her, the embrace hurried and desperate from relief. Carolina takes the opportunity to deliver a swift punch to the back of Gold’s head, ending his shouts.

“Are you okay?” Nick asks, pushing Tinu back far enough to examine the cut at her throat. The under armor’s split open, but the cut doesn’t seem to have broken skin.

“I’m fine,” Tinu assures him. “He didn’t even cut me.”

“He would have,” Nick says bitterly. He looks at where Gold has fallen over, limbs still locked rigidly. “What did you do to him?” he asks curiously as he looks to Carolina.

“I found these while looking for Dr. Han,” the former Freelancer says, holding out a handful of small metal discs.

“And I recognized them from some plans the Director wrote up a few years ago,” Church jumped in, appearing on her shoulder. “They’re designed to lock down power armor.”

Tinu nods. “My copy used one on Silver,” she says, voice slow with remembrance. “Good to know they don’t work on just us.”

“Come on,” Nick says, grabbing one of Gold’s arms. “Let’s get him into the ship. I want to be ready to go the moment Silver gets back with mom.” Carolina and Tinu nod, helping move the newly acquired prisoner.


	54. Boron

Tucker jogs slowly through the base, the fingers of his right hand resting where his sword sits on his hip. So far, his sweep of the base hasn’t revealed anything. He hasn’t run into a single soul since he started. This fact doesn’t surprise him, though. Everyone’s been gathered in the mess hall since Silver left. There’s a collective buzz of nervousness surrounding that room, like everyone there expects something terrible to happen soon. Grif said it reminds him of a time he and Sister had gone to a public shelter to wait out a hurricane, back when they were kids. He’d said the people there’d had the same look in their eyes that Tucker sees in the people here now; like they don’t know what the next few hours will hold, but they know it could be bad.

Tucker understands the feeling. He’s been restless for the past few hours, unable to stand the thought of sitting around waiting for something to happen. He knows he should go back to the mess hall soon to check on everyone. But, he also knows that if he does, he’ll get dragged into one of the games Donut’s been trying to get the teens to play. The pink soldier’s made it his business to distract the family ever since they all gathered in the mess hall. Last Tucker saw, he was trying to get them involved in a giant game of telephone, like it’s some kind of fucking sleepover.

Surprisingly, Sarge is one of the few to have joined Donut in his mission. Not with the game, obviously, but with trying to distract everyone. Tucker watched part of his contribution before leaving. He couldn’t handle listening to the veteran tell so many wildly exaggerated stories of his many victories against blue team. At least he was being more useful than Grif, though. The lump of Hawaiian dressed in orange armor had been napping, last Tucker had seen, though he’d claimed he was keeping an eye on things.

Simmons, meanwhile, had been standing with his ‘not girlfriend’ near the mess hall doors, fidgeting nervously and generally looking like he was going to throw up. Tucker wasn’t sure if the nervousness came from the overall situation, or just the fact that the maroon soldier had been standing near a girl. Either way, he’d decided not to stick around. And Tucker definitely didn’t want to return to that any time soon.

Besides, he figures it’s better if he keeps watch here in the hangar anyway. He doesn’t want any surprises.

Tucker zones out for a while, going over the evacuation plan again and again in his head. He’s already picked one of the locations Silver gave for them to run to, and had Yttri pre-program it into the ship’s autopilot. The ship in the hangar, the one used to send all the copies to attack before, should be able to hold everyone, though Yttri said it might take a creative use of the cryo-pods. Whatever the case, he knows they can all get out if they need to. That doesn’t stop him from being nervous, though. Silver left her family in his hands. He can’t help but feel the pressure of this responsibility. He doesn’t want to let them down.

Tucker jumps when he hears someone clear their throat behind him. He spins and sees Rubi staring up at him, her eyes uncharacteristically dull. “You’ve been gone a long time,” she says in answer to the unspoken question of why she’s there.

“Well, y’know, I’ve got a lot to think about,” Tucker says evasively.

Rubi grabs his hand wordlessly and plasters herself to the side of his leg. Tucker flinches at first but doesn’t push her away. Tinu’s explained to him in the past that the girl tends to be very touchy when she’s scared, and the last thing he wants is to take away whatever comfort she’s trying to find. Instead he drops a hand on her shoulder in a hug-like gesture.

“Franc doesn’t think Tinu will come back,” she says emotionlessly after a moment of silence. “Not alive, anyway.”

Tucker looks down at the normally cheerful child, wondering when she got so fatalistic. “And what do you think?” he asks.

Rubi shrugs. “She might die,” she finally decides. “They all might. That’s just what happens.”

“They won’t,” Tucker tries to reassure her. “Silver’s with them. She won’t let that happen.”

“Silver was with Lico,” Rubi points out with another shrug. “I… I’m not giving up on them. I just want to be ready if something bad happens.”

“Well, you’re gonna feel pretty dumb when they all come back alive, then,” Tucker tries to joke.

“I hope so,” Rubi says, finally cracking a smile. She grabs the sword off his hip, fiddling with the handle as she tries to activate it. “Lico loved this thing,” she whispers, though Tucker doesn’t hear the words.

The girl eventually gives up, sticking the sword hilt back to the magnetic strip on Tucker’s armor. “Why don’t you head back to the mess hall?” Tucker asks in response to her bored sigh. “Franc’s probably looking for you.”

Rubi shakes her head, hugging his leg again. “Not without you,” she declares stubbornly.

“I need to stay and watch the hangar,” Tucker argues, knowing he’s already lost. Junior used to use the same voice with him, and he could never deny that little guy anything.

“Please?” Rubi begs, turning the widest, most pitiful eyes Tucker’s ever seen toward him. “I don’t wanna go.”

Tucker sighs. “What about franc?” he asks, reaching for his last hope.

“I’ll bring franc here,” Rubi volunteers excitedly. “We can both help you keep watch.”

“I don’t know…”

“Please?” Rubi begs again, pulling on his arm in desperation. “Please, please, please, please, pleeease!”

“Alright, fine,” Tucker eventually snaps, cutting off the whining request. “Just go get him and hurry back.”

Rubi giggles as she finally lets go of the aqua armored leg. She sprints away to retrieve her partner, waving back at him, which prompts another sigh from Tucker.

“So much for some peace and quiet,” he whispers, a faint smile gracing his features. Honestly, he doesn’t mind the kids’ company. Especially not if it keeps them from worrying.

 

* * *

 

Boron fires a line of bullets and I roll to the side, springing up to knock the gun from his hands and deliver a punch to his chin. He twists left at the last second and my fist flies past his head, leaving him open to drive an elbow down into my arm. I sink down with the blow, trying to lessen the impact. While down I kick outward, knocking his legs from underneath him.

I jump on top of Boron while he’s down, driving a knee into his ribs while punching at his face. He grunts with the impact to his torso but manages to yank his head away from my fist in time. He grabs one of the knives off my belt and drives it toward my stomach, right where the plates of armor separate. I roll away, barely keeping the blade from touching me.

Boron laughs as we both spring to our feet. “Y’know, it’s impressive, really,” he says, waving my knife casually as he talks. “You’ve really managed to trick all of them. I actually used to look up to Nick, thought he was smart and everything, but even he’s fallen for your act. They really think you care about them.”

“I _do_ care about them,” I insist, keeping my distance. What Boron lacks in strength he more than makes up for in speed and ruthlessness, and he’s always been good with knives at close range. I know my best chance is to take him out right now. I have my gun. Part of me wants to do it. I want to do it. But for some reason my arm still doesn’t move.

“You’re a liar,” Boron sneers. “You tried to kill me, then made up some bullshit about your crazy AI doing it. You’ve lead dozens of us to our deaths. You couldn’t even go on a simple reconnaissance mission with Neon and have her come back alive. I don’t know if you’re just careless or if you actually want to watch them die, but I do think it’s funny that they’re all still loyal after all of that.”

“Shut up!” I shout, throwing a knife at him. He dodges it easily, still smiling.

“You couldn’t even stop yourself from killing Lico.”

I hear Rho in the back of my head, telling me not to react. He’s baiting me for a reason. He has to be. I can’t fall for it. But I do. I can’t handle standing here and listening to him accuse me of stuff like this. I am not a murdered. I did not try to get anyone hurt. And I did not kill Lico.

I charge at him, drawing a knife as I go. He makes an immediate stab at my gut when I reach him, but I dodge it and aim one of my own. Boron deflects the attack with his own knife.

“I did not kill Silicon,” I hiss at him as we fight.

“Really?” Boron asks, feigning confusion. “That’s not what it looked like on the footage I found.”

“You know that wasn’t me,” I argue, ducking under a swing of his knife.

“I know that the people you claim to love tend to die around you,” Boron counters, driving his elbow down into my back.

The blow drives me to my knees. I know Boron will follow with a knife in my back. I kick out to the side and hear a crack when my foot hits his ankle.

Boron screams and jumps back, keeping the weight off his injured side. “You stupid bitch,” he seethes, reaching a hand behind his back. “You’ll kill all of them just to get to her.”

I recognize what he’s doing, what he’s reaching for. He and Gold used to be partners, and there’s a lot about the way they move that is identical. I know the grenade’s coming. I also know, with the wall behind me, I’ll still get caught in the blast even if I dodge. I catch a bluish purple glow out of the corner of my eye and move so my shadow blocks the light from reaching Boron’s face.

“I won’t let that happen,” Boron continues. “I won’t let you kill this family.” His hand appears from behind his back, holding the blue sphere I’d expected. He hurls it toward me and I duck to the side, allowing the grenade to get caught in the man canon and fly back toward its master.

Boron’s eyes widen as the projectile flies toward him. He ducks under the path of the grenade, only to have it hit the wall behind him. The resulting explosion sears burns into his back, his thin armor doing little to protect against the damage. Boron lets out an agonized shout and sinks to the floor, unmoving.

I watch him warily, knife held high and ready to strike if necessary, stepping toward the prone figure. I cringe when I see the burns. I kick away the knife he dropped and sheath my own, kneeling next to him. I already know this is beyond medical attention. The weak rise and fall of his shoulders is only staving off what’s inevitable.

“Boron,” I say gently, wanting to help him despite everything but not trusting him enough.

A soft groan escapes his lips, and he turns his head enough to see me. “Si?” he whispers, voice filled with confusion. His eyes dart around, like he’s trying to remember where he is. I feel my stomach drop. I recognize this look. It’s the same one Nick had when I first deactivated his chip. I realize suddenly that I’ve made a terrible mistake.

Boron’s eyes widen suddenly as the memories rush back. “Oh- oh, god,” he whispers in horror. “Si, I… I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ his voice cuts off with a ragged gasp of pain.

I rest a hand on a part of his arm that avoided the burns. “You weren’t in control,” I guess, voice softened by the shock of this realization.

Boron tries to shake his head, eliciting another hiss of pain as the motion stretches the burned skin on his neck. “Mom found me after the attacks. You’d already tracked down and freed most of us who’d been chipped. She… she made mine look like it was damaged so you’d think I was safe, then left me for you to find.” I see tears falling from his eyes, pooling on the concrete. “I- I killed Lico,” he whispers. “I let them into the base. I tried to kill you…”

“That wasn’t your fault,” I say quickly. “You couldn’t control it.”

“I still did it,” he says. “I- I hated you so much, Si. It wasn’t even mom. She made me fight, but I… I chose how I did it. I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” I tell him. “This wasn’t you. Just hold on.” I hear Rho in the back of my head, radioing Nick and telling him to send Doc. “Help will be here soon. Just hold on, that’s an order.”

“Sorry,” Boron says, and I can’t tell if he’s trying to laugh or gasping from pain again. “You know I was never good at following orders.”

“You’re going to be fine, Boron,” I insist.

“Silver, stop,” he groans weakly. “Just… Make sure they know I didn’t want to,” he says, locking eyes with me as he makes the request. “I- I don’t want them all to think I was a monster.”

“They won’t,” I promise. “You can come back and work with us again. They’ll all see you’re on our side.”

“We both know that won’t happen,” Boron wheezes.

“Please,” I beg suddenly. “Please don’t die.”

“Not a lot of choice on the matter,” he says with a pained smile. “Sorry I couldn’t let you keep hating me. It probably would have been easier.”

“You never could let anything be easy,” I joke back. If he wants to die with a sarcastic smile on his face, I’ll let him. It’s the least I can do.

“Guess I’m just a jerk like that.” Boron’s breathing grows more labored, and he looks at me again urgently. “You can’t let mom escape,” he says. “You can’t let her get away with this.”

“I won’t,” I promise. “She won’t escape. Boron, just hold on. Doc’s almost here. You’ll be fine, you’ll see.” He doesn’t respond. I watch his shoulders stop moving, watch the way hands previously clenched in pain suddenly relax. He’s gone.

I’m not sure how long I sit there, silently waiting for him to take his next breath. Eventually Doc arrives, but it’s already too late. He starts to ask me to move before checking Boron’s pulse, his spine stiffening when there’s nothing there.

“Silver, I-,” Doc starts, and I shake my head. I don’t need to hear it. Not right now.

I vaguely register the medic’s voice somewhere behind me, radioing the rest of our team about what happened. A few minutes later Wash shows up, kneeling beside me. He doesn’t speak, and I’m grateful for that. Instead he just wraps an arm around my shoulders and lets me sag against him. Eventually he coaxes me to my feet and turns me away from the body, walking us toward the hangar.

“We caught Dr. Han,” he says and I nod numbly. “Carolina and I met up outside her lab. She didn’t put up a fight; just followed us to the ship. I guess she knew she’d lost.”

“Good,” I mumble.

“Carolina brought her ship around to the main hangar. She’s going to leave with Gold and Dr. Han. Nickel and Tinu are flying with her, to keep an eye on the prisoners.” I nod again humming a small indecipherable sound to acknowledge his words. “Doc’s waiting at the pelican for you and I,” Wash continues.

We lapse into silence for a few seconds before he speaks up again. “I’m sorry. I know you still cared about him. Even if he did betray you, he was still your brother.”

“Didn’t,” I manage to say, forcing the word past the lump in my throat.

“What?” Wash asks.

I take a shaky breath before speaking. “Boron didn’t betray us. He was being controlled.”

Wash is silent for a long time, absorbing this information. “We’ve caught Dr. Han,” he finally says. “And Gold. Focus on that.”

I don’t think it’s possible to stop thinking about what I did to Boron, but I nod anyway. It’s easier than arguing.

We finally reach the hangar and Wash immediately leads me to the pelican. I sit next to Doc while he moves up to the pilot’s seat. I’m grateful he doesn’t ask me to fly. I don’t think I could right now. There’s too much on my mind. I stare down at my hands as we take off, trying to think of how I’ll explain everything once I get home.


	55. Presents from Mom

_Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen_. I turn on my heel and begin pacing the other way down the hall, starting over. _One, two, three…_ There’s a door on my left. Mom’s sitting somewhere on the other side, waiting for whatever we intend to do with her. I haven’t seen her in over a year, and now there are just a few inches of metal separating us. It’s unnerving.

I freeze in place, staring at the door. I take a deep breath, willing myself to relax. I need to appear calm. I need her to see that I’m strong, that I’m not afraid of her, and that I know what I’m doing. And yet, for some reason, I can’t seem to get myself to calm down. My breathing hasn’t slowed since my fight with Boron, despite my best efforts. I can’t seem to control it, or the splitting headache I’ve developed.

“Maybe you should let Nick handle this,” Rho suggests, characteristic motherly concern in her voice.

“No,” I say. “I can deal with her.”

“Your pulse is racing, your blood pressure is dangerously high, and you’ve nearly tripped three times just pacing here in the hall,” she argues. “You’re in no condition to handle this negotiation. You need to go see Rhodi.”

I don’t feel like arguing this. “Log off,” I order.

“No, I won’t log off,” Rho insists. “You can’t just make me go away every time I’m right. You need help, Silver.”

“Please?” I request tiredly. “I’m going to talk to her, and I… I need to do it alone.”

Rho shifts her feet uncomfortably, looking like she doesn’t want to listen. “Fine,” she says eventually. “But you’d better wake me up the moment you finish. You and I need to have a talk.” She sounds like a stern parent, and I can’t help but smile at the fact.

“Whatever you say,” I agree. There’s a slight buzz in the back of my head, the only indicator that she still isn’t happy with this course of action, before I feel her presence draw away from my mind. I sigh and pull her chip from the base of my skull. It’s not that I don’t trust her, but I really need to know that she isn’t listening. Whatever happens, it needs to be between me and mom.

I face the door again, willing my face to show no emotion, except maybe a bit of anger. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with her knowing how much she’s pissed us off. Once I think I’m ready, I type the door’s code into the panel at its side. It slides open, and I step into the room.

Mom looks exactly like I remember. Her hair is in the same harsh grey bun she’s had since I was a child, her eyes are just as sharp and critical as ever, her mouth is set in the same half frown of disappointment, and her hands are folded on the table in front of her like I’ve seen a thousand times before. Nothing’s changed at all. It’s mildly disappointing. I’d half expected her to look older, both from the stress of living on the run and, hopefully, from guilt for what she’s done. I realize now that it was a fantasy. She’d never feel guilt or remorse for any of this, and she’d certainly never lose sleep over it.

Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and it almost looks like she’s suppressing a smile. “I believe the accurate term for you, at this time, would be ‘prodigal’,” she comments as I sit across from her. Her eyes are fixed on me. I see past the fake smile she wears, recognizing her expression. She’s analyzing something, though I can’t guess what. It would appear she sees something entirely fascinating in my face.

My glare deepens at the words. “Don’t try to be cute,” I snap.

This time Dr. Han really does smile. “You’re still angry about Silicon, aren’t you?” she asks. “It’s a shame, really. He actually had the potential to be a decent soldier, unlike many of you.”

“Don’t you dare talk about him,” I say. “You don’t have that right.”

Dr. Han’s face turns business like. “Then what shall we discuss?” she asks. “I’m sure you brought me here for a reason.”

I hand her a holo-pad with a document already opened.

“What is this?” she asks, eyes already scanning the words.

“Your confession,” I answer. “Every illegal thing you’ve ever done with this project, as well as everything you’ve ever forced us to do. You’re going to sign it.”

“And why would I do that?” A hint of amusement sneaks into her voice as she asks.

“Whether you do or not, nothing changes for you,” I answer. “No matter what, we are going to turn you in. You will face justice for your crimes. We have enough evidence without your confession to get you put away for the rest of your life, if not outright executed. So, whether you sign or not, it’s no different to you.” I lean forward, locking my eyes to hers. “However, if you sign this, it will prove that the rest of us are innocent. We’ll all be allowed to go free. I don’t believe you’re so evil as to force us all to die with you when there’s no hope for you to escape.”

Dr. Han sits back in her chair, putting some distance between us, and smiles again. “That’s where you’re wrong,” she says in her ‘I know more than you’ voice. “I do have a chance to escape.” She leans forward again, eyes darting between my own. “Your pupils are dilated,” she observes. “And you’re sweating.”

This time it’s my turn to lean back. I reach up and wipe some of the sweat from my forehead, wondering how it can be there when I feel so cold. I look down at my hands and see that they’re shaking. _Not now_ , I beg silently. I stand, clasping my hands behind my back to hide the tremors as I ignore the spinning in my head. I turn a glare to Dr. Han, who looks far too smug for my taste.

“Genetic degradation is a terrible way to die,” she says, the sympathy in her voice so fake it makes me feel sick. “First there’s the general exhaustion and dizzy spells, usually dragging out for months on end. Then there’s the chance you’ll lose muscle control. Of course all of this is nothing compared to the rather unpredictable way your organs will shut down. Most likely it will be your kidneys first, though it’s also very possible you could lose your lungs or heart. All the while you’re in excruciating agony, of course.”

I want to tell her to be quiet, but I can’t seem to make myself speak. It feels like there’s something in my throat, stopping every breath from reaching my lungs. I place a hand on the table, hoping I look menacing and not like I’m about to fall over.

“Most often this would be when a subject dies, but I’m sure Yttrium and Rhodium would find some way to keep you alive. This could prolong the inevitable for a few months, but in the end you would still die a long, painful death.” Dr. Han looks up into my eyes, though I have a hard time focusing on hers. The pain in my head’s gotten worse, and I’m sure I’ll lose my balance soon if the room keeps spinning like it is. “Of course, I could stop it,” she continues. “I know how to stabilize your genetic structure, just like when you were a child, only this time it would be permanent. You don’t have to die.”

“And I suppose you’d do this out of the goodness of your heart?” I say sarcastically, the words slurring together slightly. Rho was right. I’m in no condition to be here. I can see that now.

Dr. Han laughs, a short, quick note lacking any humor. “You know me too well for that,” she answers. “No, I’m proposing a deal; my life for yours. You let me go, and I’ll cure you before I leave.” She leans back and folds her hands in her lap. “We both win.”

My eyes narrow as I try my best to focus on her face. “No deal,” I hiss.

“Don’t be stubborn,” she snaps, her tone scolding like when I was a child. “I know you’re afraid to die. But it doesn’t have to be like this. Neither of us needs to lose our lives.”

“If I let you go, it’s a death sentence for my family,” I say. “I won’t allow that. I’ll gladly accept my death to keep them safe.” I can’t stay here any longer. My symptoms have never felt this bad before. I need to get out of here; need to get to Rhodium.

Dr. Han laughs humorously as I turn to leave. “We really are very much alike,” she says as I stumble to the door. “You’re just as stubborn as me.”

I stop at the door, pressing a hand against it to help keep my balance. There’s one last thing I need to say to her before I leave. “Just tell me one thing,” I request. “Did you ever truly care about us? You told us to call you mom. You told us you were our mother. Did you ever love us at all?”

There’s a pause and I wonder what she must be thinking, whether she’s weighing the possibility that her answer could influence her future. Then, she finally speaks. “How could I ever love failed experiments?” she asks with true confusion in her voice. I squeeze my eyes shut and tell myself it doesn’t hurt as I finally step out of the room.

I close the door behind me, cutting off whatever she might have said next. I take quick, shallow breaths, growing more lightheaded by the second. I need to get to Rhodi. He’s prepared for this. It’s the only clear thought in my head as I stumble down the hall toward the infirmary, one hand dragging along the wall to hold me up. I only make it a few feet before sliding to the floor, vision blurring. I smell blood, and a swipe of fingers under my nose proves it’s mine. I barely make out the shape of someone down the hall before my vision goes completely dark.

 

* * *

 

Wash walks through one of the many halls in the new base, carefully counting the different doorways and passages he passes. “Fourth right, then the third door on your left,” he mutters, trying to remember Nickel’s directions. Part of him wants to turn back around. He’s still not sure where he stands with Silver. She might not even want him there. Still, he knows she’s going to talk to Dr. Han. He assumes that’ll be a difficult thing. She might want someone there.

Wash sighs. “You are absolutely hopeless,” he whispers to himself. He stops then, nearly turning around and rejoining the rest of his team in the cafeteria. When he left they’d been messing with Grif after the Hawaiian had freaked out upon hearing of the bat creature he and Silver had battled. It’d been fun sitting around and laughing with a group like that. Wash wouldn’t mind being there. Of course, he also wouldn’t mind helping Silver, if she’d let him.

He knows he should leave her alone. She doesn’t care about him, at least not the way he wished she would. That doesn’t stop him from caring about her, though, or stop him from wanting to help.

“It’ll be fine,” he tells himself. “Worst case scenario is that you end up standing in the corner looking intimidating while Silver interrogates her crazy mother. What could possibly go wrong?” He forces himself to keep moving forward until he reaches the turn he’d been looking for.

Wash sees Silver standing near the end of the hall. He raises a hand to wave but stops when something seems off. He notices the way she seems to be pressing against the wall as she walks, as though she can’t support herself without it. He rushes forward when she falls to her knees.

“Silver!” he says worriedly. She’s already unconscious by the time he reaches her, and there’s blood on her upper lip. He presses two fingers to her neck gently, his mind instinctively falling back on past training to compensate for his panic. He breathes a sigh of relief when he finds a pulse, though it’s so faint he barely feels it and fast enough he’d think she just ran a mile. Her skin’s also abnormally cold to the touch.

“This is not good,” Wash whispers to himself. He doesn’t recognize the symptoms, but he can recognize in combination that they’re bad. He picks her up carefully, letting her head roll onto his chest while her legs fold over his arm. “I’ve got to get you to Doc,” he says, talking himself through the plan to keep focused.

He wants to run. He wants to get her to Doc or Rhodi or someone who can tell him what’s wrong as soon as possible. Still, he doesn’t want to risk hurting her further. Wash settles for a brisk jog as he carries Silver through the halls.

He finally reaches a more heavily populated section of the base. The first person he runs into is Donut.

“Hey, Wash!” Donut greets cheerfully, before he notices the unconscious woman. “Is she okay?” he asks, his usual jovial attitude quickly morphing into concern.

“I don’t know,” Wash answers. “I found her like this. I’m taking her to the infirmary. Run ahead and tell Doc and Rhodi.” Donut nods wordlessly before sprinting away down the halls, Wash trailing behind.

When he finally reaches the infirmary Rhodi’s already ready for him, ordering Wash to place Silver on one of the beds without so much as a greeting. The teenager begins hooking her up to various machines and IVs of fluids Wash has never seen before.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asks, hovering nervously to one side of the hospital bed.

“Go get Nick,” Rhodi orders mechanically, studying the readings on one of the machines.

“Rhodi, tell me if she’ll be okay,” Wash insists.

“I can’t,” Rhodium snaps. “I cannot tell you anything, Agent Washington. Not even if I want to. Now go get Nick.” He turns away from the stunned former agent once he’s finished, frantically scanning the machinery. “There isn’t enough fucking time,” he hisses under his breath. “This is too soon. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

Wash watches the kid mutter to himself for a little while longer and then walks to the door. He’s right, of course. Whatever’s going on, Nick should know. He’ll probably want to be here. Wash stops in the doorway, glancing back at the pale figure on the bed. “Just don’t die,” he whispers feebly before finally leaving.


	56. Explanations and Confessions

Wash stares unseeing at Silver’s face, Nick’s words still ringing in his mind. Genetic degradation; a collapsing of her genetic structure. Literally, her DNA is falling apart, just like when she was a kid. He can’t even comprehend it.

“How long have you known?” he asks.

“She started feeling symptoms just after the attacks,” Nick says. “So, about a year. At first she thought it was just exhaustion. She’d been working like crazy to get us all back together and find a decent place to hide. Then one day she just… collapsed. Right in the middle of planning a supply run with Tinu and I. Rhodi ran some tests and figured out what was wrong. That’s when she started her whole campaign to find Dr. Han. Silver wants to make sure we’re all fully pardoned and well on our way to having normal lives before she dies.”

“Don’t say that,” Wash snaps. “She isn’t going to die. We’ll figure something out.”

Nick sighs. The sound, along with his expression, is so weary it actually fits his physical age. “There’s nothing to figure out,” he explains. “We’ve had a year to work on this. Rhodi’s a genius. If there was a way, he’d have found it.”

“So you’re just giving up?” Wash asks scornfully.

“She’s my sister,” Nick reminds him. “If there was anything I could do, you can be damn sure I’d do it. But there’s nothing. She is going to die and-“ he cuts off suddenly, the words catching in his throat.

The two men fall silent again, leaving the beeping machinery to fill the void. Wash follows the line of an IV from Silver’s arm to the pouch filled with saline and various medications. Rhodi said most of them are painkillers, while a few might be able to slow the progression of symptoms. He also said it won’t be enough. Wash wishes he could think the boy is wrong.

“Who else knows?” the distraught agent finally asks.

“Just Tinu, Yttri, Rhodi, and I,” he answers. “Although, we’ll probably have to tell everyone else now. They’ll want to have the chance to say goodbye.”

“You seem oddly… calm about all of this,” Wash observes.

“I’ve known this will happen for a long time,” Nick shrugs. “I’m not okay with it, but… I guess I was ready for it.” He looks at the man who hasn’t left his sister’s side since hearing the news. “I tried to warn you away,” he remembers absentmindedly.

“Yeah, you did,” Wash agrees.

“I knew I’d fail,” Nick continues. “You aren’t the type to give up on anything. Still, I had to try. I knew it’s what Silver would want.” Wash nods silently, and Nick sighs. “Say your goodbyes, then leave her in peace, Agent Washington,” he instructs. “It’s all we can do for her now.”

Wash nods again, shoulders drooping. Nick places a hand on his shoulder for a moment before leaving. He has to figure out how he’ll explain this to the kids.

 

* * *

 

I open my eyes and see Washington staring down at me. I want to pretend I’m still asleep, just close my eyes and ignore what’s in front of me, but I know it’s useless. He’s already seen that I’m awake. Besides, after everything we’ve been through together, Wash deserves an explanation. The least I can do is talk to him.

“Hey,” I whisper. I’d intended to say the words at a more normal volume, but my voice is much weaker than I’d expected. I can feel a pressure on my ribs and realize there’s some sort of machine wrapped around me, steadying my breathing. I also feel an artificial sort of floaty drowsiness that I know comes from heavy pain medication. It must not be enough, though, if the dull ache in my head is any indication.

It’s a while before I realize that Wash hasn’t spoken at all. “Wash…” I start slowly, unsure of what to say.

“You knew,” he says, tone slightly accusing. “You knew the whole time.”

“Nick already told you,” I guess. Part of me is upset that Nick gave away the secret without asking me first, but I’m mostly just happy that I don’t have to explain it myself. It saves time, and that’s not something I have a lot of right now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands, sounding hurt. “Why didn’t I hear about this before I found you passed out in the hall?”

“You didn’t need to know,” I whisper feebly.

The words barely leave my mouth before Wash speaks. “That’s bullshit, Si!”

“I didn’t want you to know,” I amend, forcing my voice to be a little stronger. “I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Why not?” he asks in exasperation. “We could have done something. I- I could have handled more missions, tried to make it easier on you.”

“That’s exactly why,” I answer. “I didn’t want everyone to treat me like some fragile dying thing. I needed you to think I was strong so you wouldn’t try to stop me from doing what I needed to.”

Wash’s eyes widen suddenly. “That’s why you’re doing all of this,” he says in realization. “This is why you’ve been so reckless, why you’ve taken so many risks. You knew-”

“I know I’m going to die,” I explain. “Either here in a hospital bed or out there on a mission, I will die. Nothing can change that. I’d rather push ahead and try to give my family a chance to be safe than sit around and wait for it.”

Wash looks down at his hands and shakes his head, face growing more pained every time I mention my death. “There has to be something we can do,” he insists.

“There’s nothing,” I say gently, like I’m explaining it to one of the kids. “This isn’t some disease humans have been studying for centuries. It’s a condition; a side effect of mom’s genetic tampering. On my deepest, most basic lever I am unstable, imbalanced. There is no cure. There’s nothing anyone can do.”

I realize my voice has risen as I spoke, leaving me nearly shouting by the end. I take a deep breath and try to calm down. “You can’t fix this, Wash. You can’t save me.”

Wash remains silent for a long time, eyes fixed on his hands and deep in thought. “What about Dr. Han?” he finally asks.

“No,” I say instantly.

“But she fixed this once,” he argues. “You said this happened when you were a kid, and she fixed it. She can help.”

“Maybe,” I admit, stressing the word to show my disbelief. “She might have some sort of treatment or cure, though it obviously wasn’t permanent so I wouldn’t put much value in it. But even if she can do that, she won’t. Not unless we give her something in exchange.”

“Then give it to her,” he says. “Whatever deal she wants to make, we’ll do it.”

“No,” I snap again. “The only thing we have that she wants is her freedom, and I refuse to give her that. We can’t just let her go.”

“So this is about revenge?” Wash asks incredulously. “You’re willing to die just so you can know she’ll go down with you?” I can hear the anger in his voice, the frustration that I might throw my life away for something so trivial.

I shake my head wearily. “That’s not what this is about,” I say. Wash gives me a look so disbelieving I nearly laugh. “I’ll admit, I- I do want her to pay for what she’s done,” I begin to explain. “But there’s more to it than that. The Covenant and the UNSC won’t stop hunting us. Eventually they will find us, and when that happens we will all die. They won’t care what story we tell, they just want someone to blame. If we don’t have someone we can give them, someone who is truly responsible, we won’t stand a chance. They will kill us all.”

“So you’ll die instead?” he whispers.

I smile sadly. “It’s either me, or my entire family. That isn’t a difficult decision.”

“Yes, it is,” Wash says. “Dammit, Silver, I don’t want to lose you.”

“You don’t have a choice,” I say simply. We fall into a weighty silence once again. “I’m sorry,” I finally whisper. “I- I wanted to… to spare you all of this. I’d hoped you and your people would be gone by the time I reached this point.”

“That’s why you pushed me away,” Wash says, voice filled with realization and a painful amount of hope.

I can hear the emotion in his words, the underlying question he doesn’t dare ask. He still wants me to return his feelings. Part of me still believes it would be best for him to think I don’t, for me to deny my feelings so maybe he’ll feel less anchored to this. But another, more honest part knows the truth, and that he deserves to know as well. I decide to finally listen to this latter part and stop holding back.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” I admit. “I thought it’d be easier for you to move on if…” I trail off, out of breath. I can feel the machine kick in, seamlessly taking over for my tired lungs.

Wash’s hand finds mine and he grabs it gently, brushing a calloused thumb over my knuckles. It’s an intimate gesture, like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and I find myself wishing I’d let it be like this sooner.

“That’s not your call,” he says, a sad smile gracing his lips. “I knew the risk of loving a soldier, and I decided you’re worth it.”

I close my eyes. I can’t think about what he just said; the way he used the word love. I can’t handle it. I can’t think about what I wish this could be. I only have to deny it a little longer, anyway. Soon enough, none of this will matter.

“You should rest,” Wash says, apparently interpreting my closed eyes as a sign of exhaustion rather than hiding. My eyes snap open when I hear him rise to his feet, reluctantly releasing my hand. He stands over me for a moment, a pained and saddened expression on his face, before leaning forward.

I spend half a second in confusion before realizing he’s kissed my forehead. I know this isn’t what either of us wants. This isn’t how either of us thought our first kiss would go. Still, it’s all we can allow ourselves, so I resolve to cherish it.

I feel Wash pulling away, preparing to leave, and I reach out and grab his hand frantically. The same old fear from my childhood comes back in full force, and even though I know I should let him go, I can’t bear the thought of being alone. I don’t want to die here alone.

“Stay?” I whisper the request, looking up into his eyes. I know he can see the fear in me. I don’t have the strength to hide it anymore. He drops back into the chair in a heartbeat, scooting closer to my side.

“Of course,” he promises. The hand not holding mine reaches out and brushes some hair away from my eyes, tucking the white strands behind my ear. “I won’t leave. I’ll stay right here.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak my gratitude. Instead I tighten my hand around his briefly, and receive an answering squeeze. The action brings a smile to my face.

“Get some sleep,” he instructs again. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

I stop myself from correcting that to ‘if I wake up’. We both know it’s a possibility. Neither of us needs to hear it. Instead I close my eyes again, focusing on the steady beep of machinery and the even steadier warmth of Wash’s hand over mine.


	57. A Deal With The Devil

The mood shifts in the mess hall the moment Nickel arrives. Word had already spread that something was wrong with Silver. Everyone had gone to their usual gathering place while waiting for news. The moment Nick gets there, everyone sits up straighter with anticipation.

He passes from table to table, whispering the news. The sim-troopers can see the change in each group he visits, first the sudden tensing of shock, followed by a drooping of shoulders. They’re not sure what it means until the family’s mechanic joins their table.

“Yttri,” Simmons greets with oddly subdued happiness, scooting to the side so she can sit beside him. “Do you know what’s going on?”

Yttrium nods, a dark expression on her face. Simmons hasn’t seen her look this angry since the last time Sarge tried to give her advice.

“Well?” Grif says expectantly. “Are you going to tell us or what?”

Yttri remains silent for a while, prompting Simmons to reach out for her hand. She accepts the gesture, eventually looking up to meet his eyes. “Silver’s dying,” she finally whispers, voice hollow.

There’s a long pause as all those around the table process her words. Tucker is the first to speak.

“What?” he asks.

“She’s sick,” Yttri explains. “She has been for a while. Now it’s getting worse.” She goes on to explain the whole issue. As the young woman speaks, the sim-troopers’ faces fall, each looking depressed by the news.

“And there’s nothing you can do?” Donut asks eventually. The man who would normally make it his mission to cheer up their group sounds abnormally hopeless as he voices the question.

Yttri shakes her head, glaring so intensely at the table Simmons half expects it to light on fire. He barely hesitates before wrapping an arm around her shoulder in a show of support. Grif and Tucker share a look when Yttrium immediately leans into the redhead. Sarge, meanwhile, shoots him a not-so-subtle thumbs up, though the gesture doesn’t hold the same enthusiasm as if it were under different circumstances.

“Now, don’t you fret about your sister one bit, little missy,” Sarge says, speaking much louder than was strictly necessary. “I’ve spent nearly my whole life in the military, and I’ve seen plenty o’ girls like her. Tough as nails and willing to do anything to protect her team. She’ll pull through, or else I’m not the genius inventor we all know I am,” he declares confidently.

A small, bitter smile forms on Yttri’s lips. “For once, I hope you’re right, old man.”

* * *

 

 

“You really should go be with your team,” Rhodi comments when he checks on Silver once again.

Wash shakes his head, wiping at eyes that are sore from lack of sleep and tears that don’t seem to want to fall. “I told her I’d stay,” he says, gaze still fixed on the dying girl. “I promised I’d be here when she wakes up.”

“She won’t,” Rhodium says flatly. Wash looks up at the boy for the first time. “She won’t wake up again, not anymore.”

Wash shakes his head in denial. “She has to,” he insists weakly.

Rhodi breaks eye contact with the agent, fixing his gaze instead on the machines he’s been adjusting. “These are all that’s keeping her alive at this point,” he says sadly, resting a hand on one of the monitors. “They can keep it up for a few more days, but…” he trails off sadly. “Really, keeping her like this is more for our benefit than hers,” he says at length.

Wash rises from his chair suddenly, spinning to face away from the young doctor. “I can’t,” he says, sounding panicked. “I can’t do this. I can’t let this happen.”

“Then don’t,” Rhodi says simply. Wash turns back to him with a questioning look. The boy looks at him impatiently. “We both know what can help her. _Who_ can help her. I can’t do anything because she’s my leader. I have to follow her orders. But you…” he studies Wash closely for a moment. “She never saw you as a subordinate. She thought of you as an equal. And she never ordered you to do anything. She only requested it. So I can’t go against her wishes on this, but you… You can.”

Wash’s eyes widen suddenly when he realizes what the boy’s saying. “She doesn’t want me to,” he argues.

“And none of us want her to die,” Rhodi says bitterly. “So how about we put it to a vote? All in favor of my big sister not dying, raise your hands.” He lifts both hands above his heads dramatically. “There, we out voted her. So I guess she has to live and damn the consequences.”

Wash is surprised by the outburst from the boy who, in his experience, was usually soft spoken.

Rhodi sighs, looking past the machines and down at his sister. “I’ve watched too many siblings die,” he says seriously. He looks up at Wash. “And you’ve lost too many friends,” he adds. “It doesn’t have to happen again.”

Wash stares from Rhodi to Silver and back again, over and over as he thinks. “I couldn’t save my team,” he says slowly. “But I can save her.” He turns again and walks toward the door, sparing a glance over his shoulder toward Silver. “I will save her,” he says adamantly.

* * *

 

 

A few minutes later, Wash finds himself in the same hall where he’d found Silver hours before. He can’t help but remember how she’d looked then, or how she’d only managed to grow paler since. He glares further down the hall, at the door he knows Dr. Han’s waiting behind. Tinu’s standing in front of it, arms folded and a defiant look in her eyes.

“Why are you here?” he asks the blonde.

Wash can tell from her eyes that she’s been crying, though Tinu tries to hide it with an emotionless glare. “Nick’s worried someone will try to seek some sort of personal revenge against our dear mother,” she says angrily. Her eyes soften slightly as she continues. “Silver wouldn’t want that. She wants mom to face real justice, at the hands of the only people she managed to hurt more than us. So we’re giving her to the Covenant. I’m just here to make sure she survives until then.”

Wash nods. It makes sense. He knows these are good people here, but even good people can slip up and become something else when they’re under stress like this. Nick’s right to make sure someone he trusts is keeping an eye on Dr. Han. Still, he can’t let Tinu stop him from seeing her.

“I’ll take over,” he volunteers. “Go be with your family.”

“Thanks, but Nick insisted I stay here,” Tinu says dismissively.

“Please,” Wash says. “I just need a few minutes with her.”

“You know I can’t let you,” Tinu says in an apologetic tone.

“Please,” he repeats. “I need to do this. For Silver.”

Tinu recognizes the desperation in his voice. It’s the same that she feels. “Why?” she asks. “What are you going to do to her?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “I just want to talk to her.”

Tinu studies his face for a moment. “Everything Silver’s done is worthless if you kill mom,” she says even as she steps aside. “Be careful.”

Wash nods as he enters the room.

The woman he sees inside isn’t what he’d expected. She looks too normal to be the monster he’s heard so many stories about.

“And who might you be?” Dr. Han asks curiously. Despite the business like air she carries about herself, there’s a clear level of exhaustion in her voice, a testament to the hours it’s been since she was first brought into this room. “I know you’re not one of my creations. Who have they found to help them?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Wash replies, sitting across the table from her.

“Of course, you’re right. Boron told me,” she says with a smile. “You know, I still remember the day Leonard chose you. I was there, you see. All of the UNSC’s best and brightest young soldiers lined up and he chose you. I guess he and I were destined to bring our own destruction into our lives.”

Wash glares at her. He knows this type of manipulation. She’s trying to make herself seem like a part of his life in the hope it will make him feel sympathetic toward her. He isn’t falling for it. Nothing could make him feel anything but hate for this woman, not after what she’s done to Silver and her family.

Dr. Han’s eyes narrow at the sight of his glare. “Why have you come here, David?” she asks.

“Don’t call me that,” he snaps without thinking. “I came here to make a deal.”

“Oh?” she asks, voice pitching higher on the question. “And what kind of deal would that be, David?”

Wash grinds his teeth, forcing himself to ignore the use of his name. He knows she’s just doing it to mess with him. “I want you to help Silver, he says simply.

Dr. Han’s eyebrows wrinkle in false concern. “What’s wrong with the poor girl?” she asks.

“Don’t play games with me,” Wash snaps. “You know what’s wrong. You made her this way, and I know you can fix it.”

Dr. Han leans toward him suddenly. “And why should I?” she asks, something close to anger touching her words. “My creations seek to destroy me, with Silver as their leader. Why would I ever help any of them?”

“I’m not stupid enough to think you care about them,” Wash shoots back venomously. “Or that you secretly have some good in you and therefore want to help. I know you don’t care about anyone but yourself. That’s why I’m not asking for help, I’m offering a deal.”

Dr. Han grows interested at that, and Wash can see a sort of desperate hunger form in her eyes. “What would I get in return?” she asks. “The people here care greatly for Silver, as I suspect you do as well. I’d want proper compensation for saving her life.”

“And I know you won’t accept anything less than your freedom,” Wash says.

“Not quite,” Dr. Han says slowly. “I want my freedom, of course. But I also want some sort of guarantee of my safety. There are many people who wish to see me dead right now, and not just in this base. I need a way to protect myself.”

“What are you saying?” Wash asks in annoyance, waiting for the sociopathic scientist to cut to the chase.

“I want Gold,” she answers. “He is my best soldier and for the past year has served as my personal bodyguard. He’s the only reason I’m still alive. If you release us both and give me back my ship, I will cure Silver.”

Wash’s glare deepens. “I’ll let you go, and give you your ship, but Gold stays here. Yttri’s already working on removing his chip. You won’t be able to control him anymore.”

“What’s to stop you from destroying me the moment I leave, then?” she demands.

“Silver,” Wash answers. “She believes their chances are better if you’re alive. She’s specifically ordered for no one to kill you. She won’t let anyone shot you when you’re leaving. It would ruin our chances of catching you again.”

“So you do intend to find me again,” Dr. Han says, confirming her unspoken suspicion.

“Of course,” Wash says. “You still need to pay for your crimes.”

“Do you truly believe it’s a crime, what I did?” she whispered with venom. “Is it a crime that I remember everything the Covenant did during the war, and that I am unwilling to let them get away with it?”

“It’s a crime that you attacked civilians,” Wash hissed. “And that you betrayed our peace treaty with the Covenant. But more than that, it’s a crime what you’ve done to these people here.”

Dr. Han shakes her head in amusement. “They aren’t people, they’re property,” she corrects. “Made by my hands to work for the UNSC. I have done nothing wrong by them.”

“You’re sick,” Wash says, disgusted by the way she seems to truly believe what she says.

“And yet, you still need me,” Dr. Han says. “I accept your deal, on one condition,” she offers.

“And what’s that?”

“Do not deactivate Gold’s chip until I am gone,” she instructs. “I believe he will have… more trouble than most following Silver’s edict to let me live.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Wash says sarcastically. Of course, of all the people in this base that Dr. Han has wronged, she’s probably done the worst to Gold. He eventually nods agreement. “I’ll tell Yttri to delay the procedure. Now come on.” He stands and grabs her arm roughly, pulling her toward the door. Dr. Han stumbles after him as gracefully as she can manage.

Tinu looks at them questioningly when the door opens. “What are you doing?” she asks, blocking Wash and Dr. Han from leaving.

“Saving Silver,” he answers. “Let us through.”

“Wash, you know I can’t let you do that,” Tinu says. “Silver ordered-“

“I don’t care what Silver ordered,” Wash snaps. “She doesn’t just get to decide that we’d be better off without her.”

“But-“ Tinu starts, only to be interrupted  by her partner.

“Let them go,” Nick says, approaching from down the hall. His eyes are red and the tear tracks down his cheeks catch reflect the fluorescent lighting when he moves. “Let them go, Tinu.”

“Silver said not to,” Tinu says miserably. “I want her to get better too, you know I do, but is it really right to go against her wishes on this? I mean, it’s her dying wish.”

“It won’t be her dying wish if she lives,” Wash points out. “We can’t just let her die.”

“But-“

“Tinu,” Nick says. “Just let him. If you were to ask anyone in our family, they’d choose the same, so just let him.”

“What about her?” Tinu asks, pointing at Dr. Han. To her credit, the geneticist seems to recognize that remaining quiet is in her best interest now.

“We honor whatever deal Wash has made, then continue hunting her just like before once she’s gone,” Nick answers. Tinu still looks uncomfortable with the situation but she accepts her partner’s decision.

Wash nods once he’s sure they won’t give him trouble. “Tinu, would you mind taking her to the infirmary?” he asks, releasing Dr. Han’s arm that he was still holding so Tinu can grab her. The blonde refuses to answer, her silence the only form of protest she’s willing to give as she leads her creator down the hall.

“This had better work,” Nick says warningly as he looks at Wash.

“I know it’s a risk,” the former Freelancer says. “But we have to try.” Nick just shrugs, feeling like he’s somehow betrayed his sister.

“Where’s Yttrium?” Washington asks suddenly.

“I think she’s in her lab, putting together some equipment for Gold’s procedure.”

“Get her and Simmons and tell them to meet me outside the infirmary,” he says before following Tinu down the hall. He isn’t sure if Silver will approve of his next plan. He knows she’ll be mad about him letting Dr. Han go, but maybe he can make it up to her. With Yttri’s help, he thinks he just might be able to fix everything again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come on, we all knew something like this would happen. I can't actually kill her.


	58. Planning Your Betrayal

Wash stands outside of the infirmary, looking in through the room’s solitary window. He can see the scowl on Rhodium’s face even from here. The boy doesn’t even try to hide his abhorrence for Dr. Han, the woman he calls his mother, as he helps her prepare Silver for surgery. Wash knows this must be hard for him. Rhodi hasn’t just had family die because of Dr. Han, more often than not he’s had to watch it happen from up close. Wash can’t imagine it’d be easy to follow her orders now.

Still, it’s the only way to save Silver, so he’s dealing with it. He just isn’t bothering to hide his feelings on the matter.

Dr. Han doesn’t seem to mind, of course. As long as her instructions are being followed to the letter, she doesn’t care that her assistant hates her. Her only reaction to Rhodium’s feelings, if any, is mild amusement. She seems to find it funny that these things she views as less than human, nothing more than tools used to further her work, could think she’s wronged them.

Wash hates the amused smirk he can see on the woman’s face. He thinks it would be nice to remove it with his fist. He has a feeling, though, that he’d be far down on a very long list of people looking to do the same.

“Hey,” he hears behind him. Wash turns his back on the window and sees and angry Yttrium and a depressed Grif and Simmons. “Nick said you wanted to see us,” the mechanic continues, glaring over his shoulder.

Wash nods. “Dr. Han says Silver’s procedure will take at least five hours,” he begins. “That’s how long you have to make something we can use to track her ship without her noticing.”

A small grin begins to form on Yttri’s face and her eyes finally fix on the agent before her. “Planning to go back on your deal?” she asks.

“I agreed to let her go,” Wash says with a shrug. “That doesn’t mean I can’t guarantee we’ll be able to bring her back again. It might not be completely honorable, but…” he shrugs again as he trails off.

Yttri laughs outright at his words. “That’s fine by me,” she says. “I don’t care about honoring any deal with her, as long as that bitch pays in the end.”

“She will,” Simmons says, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll make sure of it.”

“Yeah,” Grif says assuredly. Wash can’t recall if he’s every heard the Hawaiian soldier sound this determined about anything before. “We won’t let her get away with this.”

Wash merely nods at the trio. “You don’t have a lot of time,” he reminds. “Get going.”

Yttri nods and glances back at the sim-troopers. “Come on, Cyborge,” she says, ignoring Grif entirely as she starts walking down the hall.

“Hey, wait up,” the other red says rather unenthusiastically as he slowly follows the pair.

Wash turns back and looks through the window again. His eyes fix on Dr. Han with a glare. She shouldn’t be allowed to look so calm, so unconcerned with what’s happening. She shouldn’t get the peace of mind that comes with knowing she’ll soon be free. Wash smiles slightly. At least it isn’t true. She may think she’s going free, but he won’t let her get far. He thinks that, in the past, he may have felt bad for a trick like this. But Agent Washington has seen enough bad people get away with bad things, and good people pay for the actions of the bad, to no longer care about that grey area of morality. Dr. Han will pay, and Silver will live. At the end of the day, that’s all that matters.

 

* * *

 

 

“Why are you following us?” Yttri snaps, glancing over her shoulder.

Grif jumps when he hears her speak, though he quickly tries to cover it up with his usual lackadaisical attitude. “Hmm?” he says, like he’s just now noticed Simmons and the mechanic are there. “I’m not following you.”

“You walked to the hangar with us and you’ve been standing there doing nothing and watching us work ever since we got here,” Yttri argues. “That’s what following is.”

“Meh, must be some sort of coincidence,” Grif shrugs, laying back on a crate that had once held supplies.

“Why are you here, Grif?” Simmons demands. Grif grins at how annoyed his teammate sounds.

“I’m just trying to help,” he argues defensively, or at least as defensively as one can while beginning to doze off.

“By following us and doing nothing?” Yttri asks, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

“I’m not following you, I’m following Simmons,” Grif explains. “That’s my job on red team; know where Simmons is. That way, when Sarge is looking for someone to do something, I can tell him where to find Simmons and go back to my nap.”

“Sounds like a real efficient system,” Yttri says sarcastically. She turns away from the chubby soldier and focuses back on her work. She already has the tracking device in hand; a small, flat square of metal that can match the color of whatever it’s touching, currently fixed on a nude brown to match the mechanic’s fingers. She just needs to find the right place to hide it.

“Dr. Han didn’t focus her studies on technology, but she’s still a genius. Not only does she understand almost everything about how all of her equipment works, but she has very keen observational skills,” she explains. Yttri knows that if the device isn’t hidden well it will be found, and then Dr. Han will escape.

She won’t let that happen.

“It should definitely be inside the ship,” Simmons says. “If it’s on the outside there’s a chance it could fall off or get damaged.”

“Radiation could be an issue too,” Yttri agreed. “The transmitter is sensitive. The inside of the ship is shielded against energy spikes, but not the outside. The only way to ensure the tracker stays working is to keep it inside the ship.”

“But Dr. Han’s most likely to search the inside,” Simmons says.

“Exactly,” Yttri nods. “We need to put it somewhere she won’t see.”

“How about there?” Grif asks. His head is hanging upside down off the side of the crate and he’s pointing at a section of wall with a glowing sequence of squares on the inside of the ship. “It’s about the same size as one of those squares,” he continues. “And they’re all different colors, so if it doesn’t match perfectly it won’t matter.”

Yttri looks at the place indicated, then at Simmons, before finally fixing her eyes on Grif. “That… actually makes sense,” she says, eyes wide in shock.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Grif says with a laugh. “I’m actually pretty good at hiding things. How do you think I’ve kept Donut away from my chocolate stache for all these years?”

“One talent and you use it to get more food,” Simmons scoffs.

“He is right, though,” Yttri says thoughtfully. “If we’re looking for camouflage, that’s really the best place. Hidden in plain sight, as the saying goes.” She darts up the ramp and quickly plants the device, staying for a moment to make sure it’s working and secure. “I’ll leave it inactive for now,” she says, holding up the holo-pad it’s connected to. “That way mom won’t be able to detect any outgoing signals. Once she’s been gone for a while we can bring it online and track her anywhere.”

“As long as she stays near the ship,” Grif adds.

“Right,” Yttri agrees, eyes narrowing. “Unfortunately, I don’t have anything that can track her without her knowledge. Unless she’d be willing to let me inject her with something, of course, but I doubt she’d fall for that.”

“I guess that’s it, then,” Simmons ventures. “Nothing more we can do but wait.”

“Yes,” Yttri agrees with a sigh. “Come on, cyborge,” she says after a long pause, hooking her arm around Simmons’. “I need to run a tune up on Nick’s arm and you’re helping.”

Simmons nods, doing his best to keep up with the mechanic’s fast pace. He glances over his shoulder to ask what Grif’s going to do, only to see the other sim-trooper is fast asleep. Simmons rolls his eyes and looks straight again. At least now they aren't being followed.


	59. Watch and Wait

 

Wash watches the events in the infirmary for as long as he can handle. Rhodi wheels in machines he can’t begin to guess the name or purpose of. Readings appear on the screen above Silver’s bed that may as well be written in an alien language as far as Wash is concerned. When Dr. Han pulls out a needle longer than his arm and begins gesturing around Silver’s head he finally decides to leave. He can’t stand to watch this.

Instead he ventures to the same hall Dr. Han had been held in less than an hour before. He walks to the room next to hers. He knows Gold is there. They had to restrain him, Wash remembers. The younger man had tried to strangle Yttrium when she first tried to examine his chip. It was only through Nick and Simmons’ help that she’d been able to get away. Now no one’s allowed to open the door without at least two people armed with stunners and in full armor with accompanying them.

Wash sighs and walks back down the hall again. He won’t get any good conversation out of that prisoner until Yttri’s done her work with him. He’s been told Gold’s actually a good person. Most of the Imbalancers have said he was as popular as Silver, and just as friendly. Wash hopes this proves to be true. He doesn’t want any more problems after Silver’s better.

 

* * *

 

Nick glares at the silver-haired woman as she walks to her ship. Most would think Dr. Han’s expression is impassive, even a little bored, but he knows better. She’s pleased with herself. Once again, she’s found a way out of a problem. He has no doubt she plans to rise up stronger than ever after this setback.

“We’ll catch her again,” Tinu says with conviction as the ship’s hatch closes behind their creator.

“I know,” Nick nods. “Doesn’t mean I like seeing her leave any more.”

They watch as the ship’s engines flare up and it takes off, passing through the shield without effort before blasting into the distance. Wash is standing on the other side of the hangar. He stares after the ship for a long time before walking to the hangar’s far door. Nick knows without needing to ask that he’s going to the infirmary. Silver should wake up within the next twenty-four hours. He knows Wash will be by her side when she does.

“Come on,” Nick says, looping his arm through Tinu’s like he’s seen in old movies. “Let’s go watch Yttri work on Gold.”

Tinu’s eyes brighten in excitement at the suggestion. “He should wake up right away, right?”

“Yep,” Nick says, smiling. “Once the chip’s inactive, Yttri can remove it. It should only be a few minutes before the sedative wears off, and then we’ll have our brother back again.”

“I can’t wait,” Tinu says. On anyone else the expression would be an exaggeration, but Nick knows it’s very close to real for Platinum. She’s always been notoriously impatient, and they all have wanted Gold back for so long. He’s aware of how truly hard it is for his sister to wait. It’s difficult for him as well.

“It won’t be long now,” Nick promises. “Yttri said the procedure is quick. He might even be done by the time we arrive.”

“I hope so,” Tinu says, resting her head on the deceptively older looking man’s shoulder as they walk. “Things aren’t the same without him.”

Nick sighs and nods. “I know what you mean.” Gold was their team leader ever since they had first learned to walk. The world just doesn’t feel right without him around, constantly checking up on them. Silver’s a good leader for their family, certainly, but she can’t replace what they’re used to. It’ll be good to have Gold around again.

“Let’s hurry, then,” Nick says, letting go of her arm and sprinting ahead. “Race you there!” he calls back to his sister.

Tinu grins and chases after him, determined to prove she’s still the faster of the pair.

They reach the room just in time to see Yttri leaving, face set in her usual tense glare. All thoughts of their race flee as the pair approaches her.

“Did it work?” Tinu asks instantly, barely pausing to breathe before she asks another question. “Is Gold okay? Can we see him?”

Yttri holds up her hands as if to ward off the rapid-fire queries. “He’s fine, I got the chip out, and he’s still unconscious,” she answered wearily.

Nick eyes her with concern, noting the heavy shadows under her eyes. “I thought you said it was a simple procedure. Did something go wrong?”

“Mom made a few adjustments, it would seem,” she says, running a hand through her hair in a tired gesture. “I had to make sure removing the chip wouldn’t harm Gold. It wasn’t easy.”

“But he’s going to be okay,” Tinu insists, wringing her hands in worry.

“He’s fine,” the mechanic repeats. “I got the chip out. All that’s left is the AI port. I’ll make a new assessment tomorrow and decide if that has to be removed as well. For now, just to avoid any complications or little surprises mom may have left behind, I left him restrained.”

Nick nods unhappily. He doesn’t like leaving Gold like this, tied down and very obviously un-trusted, but he understands the necessity of it. They can’t trust that Dr. Han wouldn’t leave some sort of secondary control mechanism.

“So,” Tinu says after a moment, clearly trying to change the subject to something more positive. “Where’s Simmons? I thought you and the ‘cyborge’ were practically inseparable.” There’s a teasing lilt to her voice as she says Yttri’s nickname for the man, and it only serves to deepen the other woman’s scowl.

“Please, Tinu, keep your inane assumptions and theories to yourself,” she says in mild irritation. Nick gets the impression that they’ve discussed this before.

“You two do spend a lot of time together,” he comments, only to raise his hands in defensive surrender when the scowl turns his way. “It’s a good thing,” he insists, taking a step back. “Simmons seems like a good guy.”

“Yeah, he is,” Yttri says thoughtfully. “And he’s smart, too. He knows what he’s doing when he offers help. I’m lucky to have him as my assistant.”

“Really?” Tinu asks incredulously. Her voice pitches higher in distress at the thought of their romance being nonexistent. “He’s just your assistant, nothing more?”

Yttri sighs, the gesture morphing into a yawn partway through. “I don’t have time for anything more,” she says simply.

“But you will,” Tinu says. “Once all of this is over, you’ll be able to do whatever you want.”

“Do you really think any of this will ever be over?” Yttri asks. She looks up at her optimistic, impossible-to-understand sister. “The universe knows our faces. Everyone knows who we are. Even if we convince the people in charge that we aren’t responsible for what we did, we’ll never be able to convince everyone. There will always be someone who thinks we did it on purpose. We won’t get to live normal lives like Silver wants. No matter where we go, everyone will always know who we are. We don’t get to be normal.”

Tinu’s face falls at the suggestion, reality once again destroying her fantastic imagined picture for their future. “But… we can try, right?” she asks in a desperate whisper.

Nick puts an arm around her shoulders in a gentle hug. “Sure we can,” he says reassuringly. “And it won’t be all bad. We’ll still always have each other. That will never change. Even if all we accomplish is getting rid of the constant threat of the Covenant and UNSC, I’ll be happy with it.”

“I’m not saying it’s the end of the world or anything,” Yttri shrugs. “I just don’t think normal is going to happen for us. Personally, I’m okay with that. I think normal is overrated.”

“You’re right,” Tinu says, smile returning to her face. “We shouldn’t be normal, we’ll be spectacular!”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it like that, either,” Yttri mutters. “Anyway, I need to get back to my lab. There’s still a lot of work that needs to be done.”

Tinu and Nick watch her go before looking back to the door. “I want to wait for him to wake up,” Tinu says. “He deserves to see a friendly face after everything that’s happened.”

“We should get out armor then,” Nick says.

Tinu looks like she’ll argue before nodding reluctantly. “I hate that we need it,” she says, eyes trained on the floor.

“It won’t be for long,” Nick promises. “We’re almost back to normal, see? Everything’s going to be fine.”

Tinu nods, face bright once again. As usual, she takes her partner’s words as fact. He’s never failed her before.


	60. The Ones Who Make The World Feel Right

 

I know something’s wrong before my eyes even open. I don’t feel right. I feel… good. My breathing is steady and even. It doesn’t take any effort to focus. There’s no pain.

This isn’t right.

I’m supposed to be dying. I shouldn’t feel like this.

I feel something in my hand and squeeze gently, trying to determine what it is. I realize it’s a hand a moment before a thumb brushes over my knuckles in response. My eyes snap open at the gesture.

Wash is sitting next to me, just like he’d been when I fell asleep. I want to smile at the sight, but I can’t. I hadn’t expected to see him again. This shouldn’t be happening.

“You’re awake,” Wash says, and before I can react he leans down and kisses my forehead. “How are you feeling?”

There’s something in his voice beside the relief. Something it takes a moment to place. Once I recognize it I feel dread begin to build in my stomach. It’s pride that I hear in his words, and I can only think of one thing that means.

“What did you do?” I ask, voice clearer and stronger than I’d expected.

Wash brushes some hair away from my eyes before leaving his hand to rest against my cheek, smiling as though he didn’t hear me. “You’re going to be okay,” he tells me. It’s the last thing I want to hear. I shouldn’t be okay right now, and it certainly shouldn’t extend into my future. None of this is right. It’s not what’s supposed to happen.

I pull my hand away from him and push my palms into the mattress until I’m sitting up. His hand’s followed my face while I was moving and I take a moment to lean into it, surprised to find that I want more. I force the thought aside and push the hand away, eyes hardening as I look up at him. I’m beginning to suspect what happened.

“What did you do?” I ask again. I make sure my voice is sharp, demanding an answer.

Wash leans back a few inches, startled by the tone. His smile fades as he continues to look at me. “I- I had to save you,” he says uncertainly.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed. Wash stands, reaching out a hand to try to steady me. I wave him away and rise to my feet, forcing him to take a few steps back. My legs feel steady underneath me, and there’s none of the dizziness I’ve grown accustomed to when standing. After I process this I look back at Wash. He’s smiling again, glad to see me standing and healthy. I glare at him.

“Tell me what you did,” I insist. I already know the answer, but I have to hear it from him. I need to give him the chance to prove me wrong. I need to be wrong this time.

Wash’s holds his hands away from his sides, palms up in a placating gesture. “I-“ he starts, unable to finish, unable to make himself admit it. His body language and voice are enough to tell me the truth, even if he refuses to say it.

“You let her go,” I guess, refusing to make it a question. “You took her deal and you let her escape.”

“I had to save you,” Wash repeats. He places a hand on my shoulder as he steps toward me.

I shrug the hand off, pushing his shoulders to keep him away. “You didn’t save me,” I nearly shout. “You only delayed my death, and killed us all.”

“We’ll find her again-“ he starts, but I refuse to let him finish.

“I told you not to,” I say. “I told you what would happen if we lost her and you did it anyway!”

Wash reaches out for me again, as though he thinks touch could make me understand what words can’t. “Silver, I-“

I push him away. I want to give in and accept what he’s saying. I want to forgive him. I want to let everything I’ve fought against between us finally happen. But I can’t. I can’t forgive what he did, not when it could mean the death of my family. “You should have let me die,” I say bitterly. “Now my whole family is going to pay for your decision.”

“Silver,” he pleads, voice desperate.

 “Get out,” I snap, turning back to the bed. I can’t look at him right now. I hear the door open and shut as he leaves. My ears barely catch the whispered apology before he’s gone. I ignore him and lay down once again. I suddenly feel very tired, and sleeping is easier than thinking about what’s happened.

 

* * *

 

 

The next time I open my eyes, I see irises like honey and sunlight. I smile at the sight I’d begun to fear I’d never see again. I may have been named for my hair, but there’s no doubt Gold was named for his eyes.

More than the color, I’m captivated by the softness of my brother’s gaze. All the harsh and angry lines I’d grown accustomed to this past year are gone. I see the potential for lazy smiles and teasing grins once again. Despite the small part of me that wants to back away and prepare for a fight, I throw my arms around his neck. I know my real brother when I see him.

“Hey, Sil,” Gold says, returning the hug without hesitation. I smile at the nickname, though his voice is a little strained, like he’s fighting against the awkwardness of this situation. I suppose there isn’t a customary greeting for family members who were forced to fight the way we were. I wonder if he expected me to be more hesitant. I don’t care if he does. After everything that’s happened, I don’t care about what’s expected. I just want to hug my brother again. I want something to feel normal again.

“I missed you,” I admit. I loosen the hug eventually but refuse to fully let go. I feel like if I let him back away he’ll disappear again, so I keep an arm around his shoulders. Gold settles onto the side of the bed, just as reluctant as I am to put distance between us. We sit in silence for a moment, me smiling with the kind of relief that can only come from nearly a year of worry while he simply gives me a crooked half grin.

“I’m sorry,” I say eventually, grabbing his hand and looking at the many scars there. A line along the back of his palm, the exact width of one of my knives, catches my eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you back sooner. I’m sorry I had to hurt you.” Tears begin to form in my eyes and I refuse to look up at him.

Gold taps my chin, prompting me to meet his gaze. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he says. “I would have killed you. I would have killed everyone here. You stopped me. I’d rather have any scar than have to live with that.”

I nod, accepting his speech. I understand that sentiment, being willing to suffer to keep them safe. It’s a viewpoint Gold and I have always shared.

“I heard a lot’s happened while I was gone,” he comments. I nod again, not wanting to relive any of it but knowing he’ll have questions. “I already know all the bad stuff,” he continues. “How about you tell me something good?”

I look at him like he’s lost his mind. Silicon is dead. Neon is dead. Boron is dead. Nick lost his arm. There’s no good news to give.

“Come on,” he prompts, nudging my elbow with his. “There has to be something.” I recognize the voice he’s using. It’s the same voice he would use in the past whenever Boron would be mad. Gold was always able to temper his partner’s rage, preventing it from destroying his focus. I don’t let myself think about Boron, and what I did, and what I feel Gold should blame me for. Instead I focus on the simple fact that he wants to make me feel better, even after everything that’s happened.

“What about the sim-troopers?” he says, still pressing for an answer. I finally allow a small smile to creep through at his insistence.

“I think Yttri likes one of them,” I admit. I hold back a laugh at the way Gold’s eyes fly wide open and his jaw seems to go limp in shock.

“You’re joking,” he says in an awe struck whisper.

“Nope,” I say, grinning now. “Simmons has been helping her with a lot of the repair work around the base, and every day she asks for his help again.”

“Requesting to be in his presence,” Gold muses. “Yeah, that’s about as close to flirting as Yttri will ever get. Do you think she even realizes yet?”

I shrug. “Nick noticed first. I haven’t really had any time to ask her about it.”

“Hmm…” Gold hums thoughtfully. He shifts slightly where he’s sitting so his foot won’t fall asleep. “And what about you?”

I shoot him a suspicious look before forcing my face to be neutral again. “What about me?”

“Nick told me about Agent Washington,” he explains.

I realize now that this isn’t just my partner coming to see me. Nick’s probably already talked to him about everything that’s happened since the attacks, and now Gold’s here to check up on me. It seems like my family will always try to take care of me, even if I don’t need it. I look away from him, glancing down at my hands. “It’s nothing,” I say.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Gold comments.

“He let mom go,” I say, a sharp edge of bitterness clear in my words. “He knew it could mean death for all of us, and he still let her go.”

“To save you.”

“I don’t want to be saved,” I snap. “I just want to know you guys will be okay.”

“And we want to know you’ll be okay,” Gold counters. “Like it or not, you’re stuck with us.”

“It’s not that simple-“

“Nothing’s ever simple with us,” he argues, a hint of anger in his voice. “Our family’s always been crazy. We’re genetic experiments, for crying out loud! That doesn’t give you the right to go dying on us.” Before I can answer he’s pulling me into a hug. He holds me for a second, silent, and takes a shaky breath. I realize now that he’s barely stopping himself from crying. “None of us want you to die,” he says. “None of us could live with it. We’ve already lost too many people. I lost Boron, my first partner. I’m not letting you go too.”

I stiffen when he says Boron’s name. I’m sure he already knows what happened, what I did. He has to know. Someone must have told him. I wait for him to say something, accuse me or say it was my fault. I know it was my fault. I could have handled things differently. I didn’t have to kill him. I was still so mad about Silicon; I didn’t even consider that Boron was my brother too, and that it might not have been his fault. I’m sure Gold will bring it up, but he doesn’t. He simply takes another stuttering breath, arms tightening around me.

When he finally lets me go his eyes are bright with unshed tears. “This Washington guy made sure you’ll stay alive,” he says. “I haven’t met him yet, but that’s enough to convince me he’s an awesome guy.”

“He is,” I admit reluctantly. “He’s great. I just… I told him not to.”

Gold shakes his head and gives me the sort of smile that means he thinks I’m an idiot. “Don’t hold it against the guy for wanting to keep you alive,” he suggests.

I stare down at my hands again, not having any more to say. I won’t deny that I feel something for Wash. Apparently it’s obvious to everyone around me. But I’m still mad at him. I don’t really know what to do about him right now. Besides, I don’t want to focus on that. Not when I finally have Gold back. Not when there’s this opportunity to pretend we’ve had a victory, and things are normal again.

 

* * *

 

 

I feel like I’m going to go crazy sitting in this room all day. Rhodi said I shouldn’t leave for at least another full day. Rho threatened to disguise the floor into a giant pit if I try to leave, and Yttri said she’ll break my legs to keep me from leaving if she has to. I know they were just joking, but I still think I should listen for once. That doesn’t make it any less maddening.

Just as I’m about to try walking around for a bit, the door opens. Wash stops when he sees that I’m awake, looking like he’s not sure if he should come in or just go away.

“Hey,” I say, standing to greet him.

Wash quickly steps into the room and closes the door behind him. He walks until there’s less than a foot between us. I wait for him to say something, but he remains silent.

“Say what you’re going to say, Wash,” I instruct emotionlessly, looking him in the eyes.

He meets my gaze for a few seconds before his eyes shift downward, settling on my hands. “We put a tracker on Dr. Han’s ship,” he says, meeting my eyes again carefully. “Yttri activated it and we’ve got a location. We know where she is. We’re just waiting for Rhodi to say you’re well enough to lead the mission.”

I can feel my eyes widen in surprise. I knew they’d planned some way to bring mom back, but I hadn’t expected this. I hadn’t considered betraying her like this. I think for a moment and decide I’m fine with it. She’s caused us enough pain, we can afford to use a few tricks on her.

“I’m sorry,” Wash says. He reaches out and grabs my hand hesitantly. I relish the feeling of warm fingers wrapped around mine. “I know I went against your orders. I didn’t want to but I… I couldn’t let you die, Si. Not you, not knowing I could stop it. I couldn’t do that. I-“ His words cut off abruptly when my lips touch his.

I’ve done it before I even have time to think. The feeling that I can finally stop holding back with him mixes with the desire to make him stop talking in the best solution I could have imagined. I hold there, frozen in the kiss, for just a second before pulling back.

“If this doesn’t work, I won’t forgive you,” I whisper. One of my hands has moved to his shoulder while the other is still entwined with his. “If we don’t catch mom again, and if my family gets hurt for it, I won’t be able to forgive you.”

“I know,” Wash says. I feel his free hand move to the side of my face and I lean into it. “I wouldn’t be able to forgive me either. And I know it was a risk. I just had to save you.”

I nod. A part of me is still mad, but I choose to ignore it. Whatever happens can’t be stopped now. Wash has already made his decision. Nothing will be gained by staying away from him, and I feel I’ve done enough of that already.

That’s the thing about nearly dying. You get to see what you’d truly regret most. For me, that’s the chance to lean up and kiss Wash again.


	61. Back On Two Feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I completely forgot to post the chapter yesterday. I had it ready and everything, I just forgot to put it here. Sorry 'bout that.

After some extensive tests, Rhodium gives me a clean bill of health. He says I still might feel some of the exhaustion or dizzy spells I’ve grown used to, but they’ll pass with time. My lungs have healed, my genes look good, and he can’t find any signs of injury or weakness in me.

I breathe a sigh of relief as I walk toward the doors, glad to finally be allowed out of this room. The past few days have been maddening, though I have to admit Wash and Gold have made them better. It feels good to finally have everything out in the open with Wash, to finally have that weight off my chest, and with Gold around, I feel like things are almost normal again. I still feel the losses of this past month, like an icy spot in my chest, but at least he’s back. At least one thing has gotten better, rather than worse. It helps.

I half expect to be greeted by a big crowd when I leave the infirmary. Rhodi’s turned away enough visitors for the past few days, insisting I needed my rest, for me to believe they’re constantly lined up outside the door. Instead of the concerned or relieved faces of my siblings, all I reveal by opening the door is Carolina.

I can feel her eyes on me, critical in a not-unkind way, assessing my health. “Feeling better?” she finally asks, visor tilting down to meet my face. It’s the closest to eye contact you can get with the armor.

I nod. “Better than in months,” I say honestly.

“That’s good,” she says. There’s something about her voice that sets me on edge. Her body language is just slightly nervous. It takes me a moment to guess why.

“You’re leaving.”

Carolina nods. “I know you still need to catch Dr. Han again, but with Gold here you don’t really need my help fighting, and you don’t need Epsilon to tell you where she is any more,” she explains. “You’re going t take her to the UNSC. I’d… rather not be around for that,” she says, an edge of nervousness barely perceptible in her voice. She’s doing a good job of covering it up. “I’m still not sure where I stand with them, since the project. I think it’d be better to not find out at this point.”

“I understand,” I say. Our plan, of course, is to turn mom in once we have her. I had planned on at least some of the sim-troopers leaving when that time came. There’s no need for them to get involved in the official portion of this if they don’t have to. I do, however, hope Tucker will stay. His past as a Covenant ambassador could prove invaluable in arguing our case.

And, of course, I hope Agent Washington will decide to stick around. Suddenly the thought that I might not see these people again after we catch Dr. Han is frightening. I’ve never really had friends before, only family. I want to be able to see them all again.

“Good,” Carolina says, tone just slightly awkward. I get the impression that she isn’t good with goodbyes; that she wants to avoid any sort of emotional separation and simply leave. “I hope to see you again someday,” I say, both trying to help her end the conversation and move on her way and hoping she’ll understand how much we’ve truly appreciated her help.

Carolina nods robotically, but still doesn’t move.

“Did you need something else?” I ask, slightly confused. I hadn’t thought her the type to drag something like this out.

“No, nothing,” she says quickly. I continue to stare at her as she remains motionless.

“Oh, for the love of not-wasting-my-time,” Epsilon groans in annoyance, appearing over her shoulder. “She just wants to say something about Wash.”

My eyes widen slightly at this revelation, and I wait patiently for one of them to elaborate.

“Thanks, Epsilon,” she mutters, an angry bite in her voice aimed at the AI, before focusing on me. “Listen, just… Wash is a good guy. He’s been through a lot, and he’s handled it all better than anyone would ever believe. He deserves something good in my life, not another disaster.”

“Is that… a warning?” I ask, voice careful as I aim quizzical eyes up at the taller woman.

“No,” she answers, and I think I may hear a smile in her voice. “It’s a thank you. I think you and the rest of your family… you might just be what Wash needs right now.”

The former Freelancer turns away and begins striding down the hall before I can respond. I know I could chase after her before she leaves, but somehow I think things are better this way. As I thought before, she isn’t the type for drawn out goodbyes.

I can’t help but smile as her parting words ring through my head again. As far as I know, Wash doesn’t have any family. His old team was probably the closest he’d had in years. I’m glad that Carolina thinks I’ll be good for him. I know he’s been good for me. He’s helped me more than I could ever express, and gotten me through some of the hardest times in my life. I’m glad someone who knows him well thinks I could do the same for him.

With that thought, I turn toward the hall that will take me to the training room. Rhodi said he wants me to make sure I’m ready before announcing the mission to find mom.

I smile at the thought of getting back into action, this time without the random pains or heavy exhaustion, or the insufferable dizziness. I take a deep breath, strong, clear, with scents ten times sharper than just a few days ago. It’s like looking through dirty glass before finally opening the window. Everything looks and feels better now. I feel normal again. I begin to think, for the first time in a while, that we might actually be alright.


	62. Family Acceptance

Wash smiles from his perch in the ceiling as Silver takes down another hologram. Yttri had managed to get the new base’s training room up and running a few days before, and with Rhodi’s order that Silver should train for at least a day to make sure she’s really better before the mission, she decided to take advantage of it. The room spawns another wave of adversaries, this time upgrading to ten.

Silver backs up a few paces, drawing two long-bladed knives from her back. Wash smirks at the clearly non-regulation weapons, another reminder of how far removed they are from the UNSC. The Director would have never sanctioned those for battle; he’d heard enough complaints from CT to be sure of it.

Wash sighs as he remembers his friends. _CT had really liked knives_ , he thinks with a bittersweet smile. He also remembers York’s collection of old Earth music, and North’s constant attempts to keep South out of trouble, and South’s three hour long ‘discussion’ with the Director about being allowed to dye her hair, and all the antics he himself had gotten up to, trying to fulfill his role as team rookie.

Wash sees a metal hand come into his field of view as Nick leans on the rail next to him. “Thinking about something?” he asks, noticing the odd smile on the Freelancer’s face. Wash can barely detect the teasing hint in his voice.

“Just remembering something,” he answers, not bothering to hide the sadness in his voice. He pushes the thoughts of his old team away and glances at the sniper.

Nick nods understandingly. “I thought you might have been thinking about Silver,” he explains. “You two have been smiling a lot more than usual since your last talk.”

“How’d you know?” Wash asks, not wanting to play this game.

“Tinu told me,” Nick says with a grin.

“And how’d she find out?” he asks in mild annoyance. It’s not like he and Silver had planned to keep things secret, but he’d hoped to have at least a day to get used to the idea of them being a couple before everyone else found out.

Nick shrugs. “Tinu always knows every good piece of gossip. I don’t even know how she learns it all. By the way, she is in full support of you two. Apparently she thinks it was ‘sweet and romantic’ how you saved her before confessing your love.”

Wash smiles at the description, though he expects it’d annoy Silver. “And what about you?” he asks, knowing the elderly-looking man’s opinion carries a lot of weight with Silver.

Nick shrugs. “You seem like a nice enough guy. Not good enough for Silver, but in my admittedly biased opinion no one could be. You’ve helped our family a lot, and she seems to like you. I could give you the customary ‘if you hurt my sister I’ll kill you’ speech, but I honestly don’t think you’d ever do that, and besides, Silver can take care of herself.”

“I’m glad to hear you think so,” Wash says sincerely.

Nick simply shrugs again. “If it weren’t for you, Silver would be dead,” he says. “I figure you’ve earned your chance with her.”

Wash looks back down at the training room, watching as Silver finishes off the last hologram with a leaping kick to the side of its head.

“Broken neck and a shattered skull,” Nick said, eyes studious as he watches the same maneuver. “She is good.”

Wash nods in agreement. “She’s better than good. Even when he was sick, she was easily one of the best I’d ever seen in battle. I can’t wait to see what she does once she’s fully healed.”

“Just be sure to watch her back until then,” Nick instructs. “She’ll act like everything’s normal again, but she still can’t do as much as she wants to. She nearly died. She needs to allow herself to heal.”

Wash nods again. “Is Gold going to serve as her partner for the next mission?” There’s something unidentifiable in his voice that makes Nick want to grin again. It’s almost jealousy, but closer to fear. He’s afraid he might get replaced.

Nick shrugs, feigning ignorance to Wash’s inner struggle. “That’s up to them. She and Gold work like a machine together. They’re always at their best at each other’s side. But she seems to work just as well with you. I guess it depends what she wants.” He spares another glance toward Wash before adding, “Don’t worry too much about what she chooses. She’s going to think of a lot of different variables and how the mission is planned. It won’t mean anything about if she likes you or not.”

“I know,” Wash says quickly. “Silver’s not the type to let personal feelings affect her plans.”

Nick shakes his head in agreement. It isn’t entirely true, of course. He knows his oldest sister often allows her feelings to control her decisions. It’s why he and many of the others in their family are still alive. Silver had always known when to be smart and when to do what was right, and when it came to her family, she always chose to keep them safe above all else.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Wash says suddenly, turning to Nick again. He hands the elderly-looking man a small data chip. “Carolina gave me this. She said it might be good for Silver.”

Nick studies the device slowly. “It’s an armor upgrade,” he guesses, though he can’t tell what type.

“It’s a hologram unit,” Wash explains. “It’s designed to hold whatever pose you’re in when you activate it, but for Silver and Rho, it could probably do a lot more.”

“Why don’t you just give it to her?” Nick asks, passing the item back.

Wash shrugs, though he grabs the chip. “I… thought she’d like it better coming from you.”

Nick rolls his eyes at the nervous answer. “For a badass Freelancer, you can be really clueless,” he laughs.

“What do you mean?” he asks in annoyance.

“Carolina could have given that to Silver herself,” Nick explains. “They talked before she left. Why would she give it to you unless she wanted you to be the one to give it to Silver?” Wash simply gives him a confused look. “She thinks, and I agree, that Silver would like it best coming from you,” Nick says plainly. “Because she likes you. And you saved her life. And she wants to kiss you or whatever.”

“Alright, I get it,” Wash says, cutting off Nick’s teasing. “Just shut up.”

Nick grins and runs a hand through his graying hair before looking down into the training room. He watches for a moment as Silver chokes out a hologram, only releasing it when it fades out of existence. She then stands and tells Rho to deactivate the program.

“Looks like she’s done for the day,” he says. “She’s probably going back to the conference room to plan our mission. Now’s your chance.”

Wash shot him a glare as he tucked the armor upgrade into his pocket and began climbing the ladder back down.

“Good luck!” Nick called down after him, grinning when Wash shouted for him to shut up again.


	63. You Can't Go Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was gone so long, everybody. I got sick, and then Christmas took all my time and gave it to visiting family. But now I'm back! And here's a new chapter! So please, enjoy this late Christmas present, and I hope your New Year is great.

 

I stand in the hangar, watching the hologram flicker in and out of existence in front of me. After a few more attempts, Rho manages to hold the image, and I appear standing before myself.

“Ta-da!” Rho cheers, popping up glowing and bight on my shoulder. “The tech is really different from the base’s projectors, or my own, but I think I’ve figured it out now.”

“Ready for the mission?” I ask. I suspect mom will have some sort of protection with her, even without Gold there. I can’t begin to imagine what it will be, but I want us all prepared to deal with it.

“Well, I wouldn’t get us in a situation where your life depends on it,” she says embarrassedly. “Like I said, it’s new tech. I’ll need some practice to get used to it.”

“Just keep it ready,” I advise. “We don’t know what kind of defenses mom will have waiting for us.”

“What kind of facility is she hiding at?” Rho asks, floating backward a few feet in front of me as I walk. “I don’t recognize the coordinates.”

I shrug. “We don’t know. Church didn’t recognize them either.”

“That’s why we’re going in ready for anything,” a voice speaks up behind me. I turn around and see Gold standing in the hangar doorway, an RPG slung over his shoulder and one of Yttri’s stunners on his back. He smiles when he sees me staring at one. “They pack quite a punch,” he says. “I thought I’d take the opportunity to use one on someone else for a change.”

“Hoping to use it on mom?” I ask.

“That would be nice,” he says wistfully.

“If you want that you’ll have to get in line,” Nick says, stepping into the room behind him. Tinu follows soon after. “I already have dibs. I want to see how hard this new arm can punch,” he explains, flexing the metal appendage for effect.

I give them a few seconds to laugh at the joke before speaking up. “Just remember our policy, guys,” I warn. “We’re leaving her punishment up to the Covenant.”

“Yeah, we know,” Gold says, cheery grin still in place. “Doesn’t mean we can’t dream, Si.” He then walks up to the pelican and rests his hand on the patchwork metal of the side; evidence of the damage and repairs it’s been through. “She’s seen some better days, huh?”

“No thanks to you,” Yttri says, appearing from behind the ship. There’s a look in her eyes that shows she’s joking, and Gold jumps right on board.

“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m a good shot,” he says, voice dripping false modesty as he shrugs.

As predicted, Yttri rolls her eyes at the comment. She then points the wrench in her hand at him threateningly. “Just be sure it comes back in one piece this time,” she warns.

Gold holds his hands out in surrender. “Don’t look at me. She’s the one driving,” he says, pointing in my direction. Yttri ignores him and walks out of the hangar. “Geez, you’d think I have some sort of reputation or something,” Gold jokes once she’s gone.

“I’m sure the thousand failed attempts on our old flight simulator have nothing to do with it,” I add, walking into the ship. Every available rack is filled with guns of varying types, from heavy ordinance to silenced sniping weapons. There’s also a large display of knives which I take a moment to admire.

Wash is finishing stocking the ship when I arrive. “Think we’re ready?”

He shrugs as he surveys his work. “We could take on a small army with all this, but I can’t really be confident when we’re going in blind.”

I hum a thoughtful tone. “I think we’ll be alright,” I finally decide. “We’ve made it this far. We have to succeed.”

Wash nods, stepping up to my side and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I’m glad suddenly that I’m wearing my helmet. It hides the blush his action elicits. I suppose I’ll grow used to this sort of casual show of affection eventually, but right now it’s still very new. I’m not entirely sure how to react to it.

I can feel Rho laughing in the back of my mind, cracking a joke about me being a love struck teenager. I ignore her. I can’t help that I have no experience in this. I think it’s natural for me to be nervous.

I realize a bit too late that I haven’t moved a single muscle since he hugged me. I lift up my arm and carefully return the embrace. I hear his helmet tap against mine as he leans his head over and for a moment I wish we weren’t in armor so I could really feel him. Then Gold and Nick and Tinu begin walking into the ship and we separate, like nothing happened. I make my way to the cockpit while Wash takes the copilot’s seat. It’s less than a minute before we take off.

 

* * *

 

 

I start to notice something’s off when we enter the planet’s atmosphere.

Most of the project Imbalance bases are on uninhabitable planets or built into asteroids. This planet not only has a breathable atmosphere, but appears to be inhabited. Or at least, it was at one time. We’re over what appears to be a large city, and as we descend I begin to see that it’s a ruin. Plasma damage is still visible on the sides of what buildings haven’t collapsed, and a layer of plant life covers the charred remains of the rest. Despite the bluish green layer of growth, the architecture is easily recognizable as human in design. This used to be a colony, and based on the time it’s been abandoned, and the type of destruction, it isn’t difficult to guess what happened. This was the site of a Covenant attack, most likely from early in the war.

We pass over the main city and eventually end up over a large house. Mansion might be a better word. I see mom’s ship in a large field nearby and land us next to it.

“Why would mom be here?” Nick muses as we file out of the ship. From the ground, it’s clear this house has taken some damage as well. There’s a large hole in one wall, and many plasma burns along the front. Despite the damage, I recognize it.

“This is her home,” I say, surprised by the revelation. “She had a picture of it in her lab.” I remember the picture well. I used to stare at it to distract myself from the needles draining away vile after vile of blood when I was a kid. There was the front of this house, though without the obvious battle damage, and three smiling people; a man, a boy, and a woman so happy she was barely recognizable as Dr. Han.

“Let’s move,” I say, pushing the memories aside. I don’t want to think that she was happy once, or that there may have been a time when she was somewhat normal. She chose what she is now. She chose what she did to us. I won’t give her my sympathy.

We line up on either side of the front door. Wash kicks it in and we file through, stopping just inside to scan for danger. There’s nothing. I wave for us to keep moving. We search each room on each floor, but aside from old furniture and crumbling walls, we find nothing.

“She has to be here,” Gold reasons when we’re all standing in the foyer once again. “It’s her own house, and her ship is right outside. Where else would she be?”

I nod in silent agreement. We have to be missing something. It’s just a matter of seeing it. I begin searching for anything out of place; anything that doesn’t fit the dilapidated, dust covered house around us. I see two coats hanging near the door. Tinu makes a comment on their style being outdated, but I see the dust. They haven’t moved since the attack.

I move into the next room. It’s large, with chairs that I’m sure were once designed to look welcoming all pointed at a long powered-down holo-screen. Here I see footprints, slight scuffs in the otherwise unbroken layer of dust. I follow them to a blank wall. It looks like all the others, aside from the perfect, door sized rectangle of clean paint. I touch my finger to the wall experimentally and the hologram fades, revealing a metal door and a terminal.

“I’ll get that,” Rho volunteers. I pull off my helmet and quickly plug her into the computer. After a moment she appears above the console and makes a confused hum. “It doesn’t appear to be locked,” she says, looking up at me with her head tilted questioningly.

“Is it a trap?” Wash asks, edging up beside me.

Rho shrugs. “Normally I’d say that’s almost certain, but this place doesn’t look like it has any defenses. I think it’s just an old lab, from before Dr. Han started working for the UNSC.”

“We should still be careful,” I say, removing her from the console and once again plugging her into my own head. There’s a moment’s delay before she’s synced, and then we move.

The door opens to reveal a long, narrow stairwell. Gold asks to lead the way, fading out of sight the moment he starts climbing down. I follow behind him, listening to make sure I don’t walk into his cloaked form. Wash is close behind me, and I can practically feel the tense caution he carries himself with. Nick and Tinu stay a few feet back from us, Tinu climbing backward to make sure nothing is following us.

When we reach the bottom of the stairs, I hear a faint tapping sound. I hold up a hand and signal for Tinu and Nick to wait for us here. I’m not sure where Gold is. I know he’s moved ahead, but I’ve lost track of him. I’ll have to trust that he’ll be where I need him if anything happens.

The room is very wide, with an abnormally low ceiling. It somehow lends to the feeling of being underground. There are neat rows of work tables, each with identical sets of equipment, each in pristine condition. I can tell just by looking that everything is set to mom’s standards. Microscopes are at just the right height for her to not need to stoop, stools are just far enough from counters for her to slip into without bumping her knees or needing to move closer, and every petri dish, vial, and scalpel is placed close enough for her to reach without standing. It reminds me of the labs at our first base. Mom always held an appearance of perfect grace that could only come from an environment perfectly catered to herself.

I see her at the end of the room, sitting at a worktable near what appears to be an emergency exit. Her foot kicks in an even rhythm, toe knocking into the side of the table as she stares at some readings on a holo-pad. The moment I set foot in the room she looks up. For the first time in my life, she actually looks surprised.

“I didn’t think you knew about this place,” Dr. Han says, slowly lowering the holo-pad onto the table. “Not even Leonard knew. How did you?”

“We didn’t,” I admit, gesturing for Wash to circle around to her side in case she tries to escape. “Yttri left a tracker on your ship.”

“So this is it, then. I suppose I cannot escape my creations after all.” There’s so much defeat in her voice that part of me thinks she’s sincerely given up, but I don’t allow myself to believe it. She always has a plan, or some sort of trick. I know she’ll at least try to escape.

She slowly pushes to her feet and I tense, waiting for her to run. I barely have time to acknowledge her eyes flicking to meet mine before she’s turning. I take a lunging step forward, hand reaching out to try to grab her even though she’s still across the room. I don’t get a chance to get any closer, though. Just as she’s fully turned away from me and begins to run, she stops, suddenly, like she’s hit a wall, and crumples to the ground. Gold fades into view standing over her.

“Hello, mom,” he says, the smile visible in his voice. “Did you miss me?” He reaches an armored hand down and she flinches away, but he only grabs her arm and drags her to her feet. “Don’t try to run. It doesn’t suit you.”

I jog over to meet him, arriving at his side at the same time Wash does. “So, that’s it?” Wash asks, looking around like he expects soldiers to begin pouring out of the walls.

“Not everything has a big climactic end,” Tinu says when we meet up with her. “Sometimes missions go exactly according to plan and nothing complicated happens.”

Wash continues to glance around suspiciously, though it soon becomes clear nothing is going to happen. “Is it weird that nothing going wrong is what seems suspicious to me?”

Nick slaps a hand on his shoulder and I imagine he’s grinning. “Don’t worry. If it means that much to you, maybe the Covenant will pick a fight when we try to turn her in.”

Wash laughs gently as we reach the ship. “No, I think I can live without that,” he decides. I smile and go back to the front of the ship, ready to take us back home.


	64. Finding the Proper Authorities

I stare at the map floating above the table. The choice is obvious, of course. There’s a Covenant base less than a day’s flight from us. Any other location we know of is at least twice the distance. I know where we’re taking mom. And, surprisingly, she’s already signed her confession, though I suspect this has something to do with the talk she and Gold had after we got back. Rho won’t give me any details, even though she listened in, but she said it was scary. I don’t mind, really. He didn’t hurt mom, and after what she did to Gold and Boron, I think she deserves to be a little scared.

I’m about to have Rho announce the destination when Tucker enters the room.

“Hey,” I say, standing up straighter. His eyes fix to the map before finally reaching me.

“I heard you were planning where to take Dr. Han,” he says, eyes flitting across the different highlighted locations.

I nod. “This is the closest Covenant facility,” I explain, pointing out our destination.

“That one’s no good,” he says immediately. I look at him and raise an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. “It’s a refueling station,” he explains. “There’ll be engineers and a few soldiers, but nothing you need. You want to go somewhere with ambassadors or negotiators or something; someone who can help you.”

I stare at him thoughtfully. I know he worked as an ambassador between humanity and the Covenant for a while, along with his son. I should have thought to ask him how to go about this. Once again, I realize I have underestimated these simulation troopers. I suppose I should apologize for it eventually, but it doesn’t seem like they’d care. I think they like people underestimating them; it makes them seem more impressive when they do succeed.

“Where would you suggest?” I ask, willing to travel further if it means we have a better chance at succeeding.

Tucker studies the map a bit longer before tapping a button on the side of the table a few times. The map instantly zooms out, showing the rest of the system we’re in. “Here,” he finally says, pointing to a planet at the very edge of the map. It isn’t highlighted, so it isn’t registered as a Covenant base, at least not on any of the military records I’ve found.

“You’re sure there’s a base here?” I ask, stepping around the table and focusing the map on the planet.

“More like an outpost,” he shrugs. “It isn’t strictly military, but a lot of politicians and ambassadors are there.”

“It’s also more than a week away,” I say.

“Trust me,” Tucker says, looking directly at me. “If you go to some random base, you won’t find anyone to help you. This is where you need to go.”

I think about it for a moment before nodding. “Will you come with us?” I ask.

“Uh, yeah, I thought that was the plan the whole time,” he says. “I may not be too great in a fight, but I know how to talk to these guys. I’ll get them to listen to you.”

“Good,” I say. “Because right now it looks like they’ll try to kill us before talking.”

“Don’t worry,” he says breezily. “If I’m right, this’ll all work out.”

“And if you aren’t right?”

“Then we all die long before you have a chance to get mad at me about it,” he jokes.

“I don’t like the sound of this plan,” Grif says, entering the room as well. Gold, Nick, and Wash follow him. “This sounds like the kind of plan we’re going to regret.”

“Not _at all_ ,” Gold says enthusiastically, slinging an arm around the sim-trooper’s shoulder. “This is the kind of plan that, if we fail, we won’t live to regret.”

“That does not fill me with confidence,” Grif says, backing away.

“It’s not meant to,” I say, laughing lightly at my brother’s antics, glad he’s at least somewhat back to normal. I can still see some pain in his eyes, which I doubt will ever leave. It’s the same as the pain I felt when I heard about Manny. I don’t think any of us can fully recover from losing our partners, at least not so soon.

“Is this where we’re going?” Wash asks, looking at the coordinates on the map. Tucker and I both nod.

“That looks like a long road trip ahead of us,” Gold remarks.

“Which is why we leave tonight,” I explain. “I want to do this as soon as possible.”

“We should take mom’s ship, then,” he says, sounding more serious. “It’s faster, and has more room to store supplies.”

“Also more room to move around,” Wash agrees. “We may end up wanting some space after a week trapped on that ship together.”

“It’ll be a bonding experience,” Gold says happily. “Nothing brings people together like the high level of stress caused by cabin fever!”

“Or we could just use the stasis pods and have Rho run the auto pilot,” I suggest.

Gold rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “If we want to do things the boring way, sure…”

I shoot him a fake glare before addressing the rest of the room. “We leave tonight,” I repeat. “Just a small team; Gold, Wash, Tucker, and myself. Grif, tell Tinu and Nick that they’re in charge. We’ll try to send you a message if things go bad, but just in case, be ready to run if anything suspicious happens.”

“Got it,” he says, waving a hand above his head as he leaves. Despite the apathetic response, I know he’ll take care of things. He’s proven that more than enough times before.

I stare at the map for a few more moments, debating the wisdom of this decision. It’s a long journey, but I trust Tucker’s judgment on this. He knows the Covenant better than any of us. If he says this is where we need to go, then this is where we’ll go.

“Alright, if there’s anything more you want to do to get ready, do it now,” I instruct. “We leave in two hours.”

Everyone in the room leaves except for Wash. I wait to see what he wants.

“You’re about to go get Han, right?” he asks. I nod. I want to get her to the ship and into her cryo-pod as soon as possible, to avoid any complications. “Do you want some company?”

“I can handle her,” I say.

“I know that,” he says, smiling slightly. “You can handle anything. Still, I thought you might like some help,” he says nervously. “So you don’t have to deal with her alone.”

I smile at the offer, stepping forward to close the space between us. I do hate having to deal with mom. She always tries her mind games, and even though they don’t work it is irritating. Maybe having Wash there would help.

“I think I’d like that,” I say before leaning up to kiss him. Wash returns the gesture, moving his hand to the back of my neck for a moment. For those few brief seconds I forget all the plans and all the ways things could go wrong, and it’s just me and Wash. Then the moment passes and we separate, ready to go do the things that need to be done.

“Come on,” he says, reaching down for my hand, and I slip my fingers into his. “Let’s make sure your mother is nice and comfy for the trip.”

I chuckle at the joke, wondering once again how this became a part of my life. I doubt I’ll ever be able to live without it, now that it’s here. That’s just how happiness is.

 

* * *

 

It’s not long before we’re all in the ship and on our way. I put mom in cryo-sleep before we leave the base, to avoid her causing trouble, though she doesn’t fight. Once again I wonder if she’s really given up or if it’s just another act. I suppose it doesn’t matter. If she tries to cause trouble, I’ll be ready. In the mean time I don’t mind her cooperation. It makes things easier on us all, which I think we deserve.

I listen to my brothers joking as they get ready for stasis. Tucker and Wash join in on the conversation as well, their voices rising in excitement over the debate. I can’t tell exactly what they’re saying, not while concentrating on double checking the coordinates programmed into the ship. I’ve already checked them a dozen times, but I don’t want to risk them being wrong. A single digit out of place and we could end up light-years away from our destination.

As I’m scanning my eyes over the coordinates again, I hear a light laugh from the console. Rho appears above the ship’s controls, looking at me with her head tilted a bit to the side.

“Relax,” she instructs in an amused tone. “I’ve got this. I’ll get us there safe.”

“I know,” I say with a sigh. “I just want to make sure-“

“You always want to make sure,” she interrupts. “Trust someone else to do something for once, okay? You don’t have to take care of everything yourself.”

“I’m just running a pre-flight check,” I argue, trying to shoo her away as she locks me out of the controls.

“You’ve already run it three times. Go get ready for stasis,” she orders. “I’ve got this.”

“But-“

“No buts,” she says, once again in her motherly voice. “Go kiss Wash, tell your brother’s a joke, glare at Tucker, and freeze yourself solid. I’ll see you in a week.” She makes shooing motions as she speaks, trying to push me out the door.

I roll my eyes at her antics and stand. “Be careful,” I say. “Don’t take us too close to any UNSC or Covenant facilities.”

“I know,” she says. “I helped map out the route. Now go.”

I do as she says, making my way to the back of the ship. I pause for a moment at the only active cryo-pod, looking at Dr. Han’s fogged over face. She somehow manages to look peaceful and cruel all at once. I move past it to the empty pods next, where Wash and Tucker are waiting with my brothers.

“Everything set?” Nick asks.

I nod. “We’re ready to go.”

“Let’s get going, then,” he suggests, pressing a button to open the top of the pod closest to himself. “I don’t want to stay away from Tinu any longer than necessary.”

“Me neither,” Tucker jokes, dodging a kick before he can even finish the sentence.

“Enough,” Wash says tiredly. “Tucker, leave it alone. You know you don’t have a chance with her.”

“Dude, I saved her life. I’ve never had more of a chance with a girl before,” the dark skinned man argues.

“Tucker,” Gold says seriously. “Crawl in the box and freeze before I kill you.”

The former ambassador grumbled but obeyed, hitting the button to activate shut and activate the tube from the inside. Nick followed suite shortly after, along with Gold.

Wash takes my hand as we walk to the last two pods. He gives me a quick kiss and whispers “see you in a week” before stepping inside. I watch as the glass fogs over, sealing him away for the journey.

I glance along the line of cryo-pods, from my creator’s all the way down to my own, before sighing. I tell myself it isn’t that long, and it isn’t too bad since I won’t feel any of it, but I can’t stop the worry. We’ll be without contact for a whole week. Anything could happen back home during that time. Still, I have no choice. I’ll just have to hope everything will still be okay by the time I wake up.

Finally, I climb into my own. I shift a bit on the hard seat, trying to get comfortable, before deciding it doesn’t matter. I reach up and press the activation button, bringing my arm back to my side just before it takes effect. After that, it’s just a brief flash of nothing before we’re there.


	65. Almost There

My eyes snap open and for a moment I wonder if the pod broke. I feel as though no time has passed since I sealed myself in. A quick glance at the clock above my head sets my mind at ease, though. I smile amusedly at myself. I never could get used to the feeling of instantaneous travel like that.

I hit the button to open my pod and climb out on shaky legs. A rough, shuddering shiver travels up my spine, and for an instant I feel like I’m still frozen down to my bones. It passes quickly, though, and I begin shaking out my limbs, regaining feeling in my chilled joints. Once I feel normal again I begin checking the other pods.

I smile when I see that Rho’s set each of the other stasis units to thaw five minutes after mine. Sometimes she’s less than subtle in telling me she wants to talk.

I yawn and stretch my arms as I walk up to the cockpit where I left her. She hasn’t bothered to project her avatar with no one around to see it, but I’m sure I can feel her in the buzz and lights of the computers.

“Hey, Rho,” I say, subconsciously adopting a whisper-like tone reserved for early mornings.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she responds, popping up over the console.

“How close are we?” I ask even as I drag my eyes to where our coordinates are displayed.

“Just outside scanner range,” she says, moving to hover over the display. “And thanks to Yttri’s last minute upgrades, we’re fully cloaked. They won’t see us.”

I nod, paying more attention to her body language than her words. I’m not sure if she realizes it, but she keeps positioning herself in front of my eyes, ensuring I’ll pay attention to her. “Any reason I’m up before the others?” I ask eventually, taking the bait.

“No reason,” she shrugs, though the gesture seems forced.

“Rho,” I say calmly, giving her a no-nonsense look.

She sighs and sits on the edge of the screen. “What’s going to happen to me?” she asks eventually.

“What do you mean?” I ask, settling into the pilot’s seat and holding out my hand for her. She flashes out of sight for a second before appearing in my palm.

“I’m an illegal AI fragment,” she explains in a nearly helpless tone. “There’s a reason Carolina and Epsilon are still on the run. The UNSC wants to contain and destroy the Alpha fragments.” She tilts her head up, projected visor aimed at my face, as her voice turns pleading. “If the Covenant see me, they’ll turn me in. The UNSC will kill me, Silver. I- I can’t go down there.” Her voice catches at the end, a sign of fear that I recognize well.

“Hey,” I say comfortingly, cupping a hand behind her like I’m shielding a flame from the wind. “You know I won’t let that happen,” I continue, though I’m not sure yet how I’ll prevent it. I look down at her guiltily. Somehow among everything that’s been happening, I managed to overlook this. I’ve been so concerned with protecting the rest of my family that I forgot to consider Rho’s safety, which I know is wrong. She’s as much my sibling as anyone else back home.

“Why didn’t you mention this before?” I ask, knowing this fear must have been weighing on her mind for months now.

“I didn’t want you to cancel the mission,” she whispers, staring at her glowing feet again. “It’s the only way to help all of you. I couldn’t let you give that up.”

I smile down at her, reminded once again how similar she is to me. “We need a plan, then,” I say. “You’re right that we can’t cancel the mission, but I can’t let them hurt you either.”

“Really?” she asks, looking up at me hopefully.

“Don’t play like that,” I chide jokingly. “You know you’re part of this family too. Your safety is as much a priority as anyone else’s.”

“Thank you,” she says suddenly, wrapping insubstantial arms around my thumb in an uncharacteristic display of affection. The action drives home even further how much this is bothering her.

“No problem,” I say, pretending to pat the top of her head with my index finger. She looks at me with what I somehow sense is a fake glare and reaches up to shove my hand off. I grin as I pretend to be pushed away.

“Think you can wake the others early?” I request after a moment. “We’re gonna need their help to plan this out.”

“Don’t bother,” Wash says from behind us. “As usual, her sense of timing is impeccable,” he adds, smiling at the AI.

“I’m just awesome like that,” she says, floating up to his face level.

“Yes, you are,” he agrees absently before turning his attention back to me.

“Thoughts?” I ask, knowing he overheard the majority of our talk. I glance past him for a moment, seeing Nick and Gold try to help Tucker through what I assume is his first stasis sickness. I’m glad my genes allow me to handle it with grace. Despite passing quickly, I’ve heard that a bad case can feel like you’re dying.

Wash winces when he hears a retching sound from his teammate. “I have a plan, actually,” he says, ignoring the moaned complaints drifting into the cockpit.

I raise my eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“They’ll pull our records when we start the trial,” Wash begins. “Double check who we are and our pasts. They’ll know you held an AI, and they’ll check of you still have it. They’ll also know what happened with me and Epsilon, and that I’d never carry another AI. They won’t bother to search me for one.”

Rho flashes a bit when she realizes what he means. It takes me a moment to catch up.

“Wash,” I say with surprise, reaching out for his hand. There’s a lot I want to say, but I can see from his determined expression that he’s already made up his mind. “You don’t have to do this,” I say. “We can find another way.”

“I could stay here on the ship,” Rho offers.

“They’ll search the ship,” Wash says. “And they’ll search your base eventually. I’m the only one who they won’t expect to hold an AI.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. I know what Epsilon did to him, and the desperation it took for him to carry Alpha later on. This isn’t an easy decision for him.

“There’s no other option,” he says simply. “And I can’t leave you here to get caught,” he adds, looking down at Rho. “Feel free to come up with another plan, but the offer’s there.”

I sigh and shake my head. “I can’ think of anything else,” I admit. “What do you think, Rho?”

“It’s a good plan,” she says. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” she asks, looking up at Wash.

“Don’t worry about me,” he says. “I trust you. Just… don’t do anything crazy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she says happily. “I’m plugged in over here,” she continues, popping over to a data port in the corner. “Pull me whenever you’re ready.”

Wash nods, glancing at the port nervously.

“I’ll go tell the others the plan,” I say, resting my hand on his shoulder briefly as I pass. “Don’t want Tucker telling everyone about our AI by accident,” I joke.

“Right,” Wash says with a strained laugh.

I step out of the cockpit, leaving him and Rho to talk if they need to. Tucker is finally climbing to his feet, with some help from Nick.

“I think I was poisoned,” he whimpers.

“Stop being such a baby,” Gold teases. “We need you ready to negotiate with your Sangheili buddies.”

“I could just tell them to shoot you all,” Tucker grumbles.

“Knock it off,” I say semi-seriously. “We’re almost at the end of this.”

“Aside from the whole trial part,” Nick interrupts.

“Yeah, aside from that,” I agree, glaring at him. “But the important part is almost over. Let’s try to not get at each other’s throats.”

“You’re just no fun,” Gold says with a grin.


	66. Reunion

Once everyone’s up to speed with the plan, Tucker and I head up to the cockpit. He sits in the copilot’s seat, waiting until we enter radio range as I take us closer to the planet.

Suddenly, there’s a voice in Sangheili telling us to identify ourselves. Tucker waves for me to stop the ship and gets ready to speak. I understand parts of what he says to them, but for the most part it’s lost on me. Sangheili is a complicated language, and I haven’t had as much opportunity to practice as I’d like. The few times I’ve spoken it in the past year have been to shout for people not to shoot me.

Tucker’s conversation is quite a bit more involved. I hear the words ally and ambassador a few times, though whether he’s claiming to be an ambassador or asking to speak to one is unknown. After a long couple of minutes of talking that escalates into shouting, he finally ends the call.

“We’re good,” Tucker announces proudly.

“Really?” I ask. From the heated sound of the discussion, I half expect to be shot down soon.

“Well, they agreed to hear us out, at least,” he says. “Trust me, I’ve dealt with these assholes before. They’re all about honor and shit. If they said they won’t attack without reason, we can believe it.”

“They didn’t sound too happy,” I say, still uncertain. This feels too easy to me, though maybe I’m just paranoid. A year on the run will do that to a person.

“The language is kind of shouty,” Tucker says dismissively. “Don’t worry. They’re skeptical, but I think they’ll listen to us. If I’m right, we’ll get at least one of them on our side.”

I nod and begin taking us closer to the planet once again, following a set of landing instruction that appear on the screen before me. “I’m trusting you on this one,” I say. “I’ve never exactly negotiated with these guys before, unless you count shouting ‘don’t shoot me’ while running away.”

“Sounds like most of my negotiations, to be honest,” he jokes. I shoot him a glare. “I’m kidding. Geez. Look, we’ll be fine. I just have to find the right person to talk to.”

I take a deep breath, reminding myself yet again that there’s more to Tucker than I think, and that I can trust him. He saved Tinu. I think that earned him the benefit of the doubt. I just hope I won’t regret it in the end.

 

* * *

 

 

I take a moment to make sure everyone’s ready once we’ve landed. I double check that my armor’s in place properly. I had originally wanted to go without it, hoping to show that we don’t mean to attack, but Tucker advised against that. He said the Covenant, particularly the Sangheili, would respect me more as a warrior than an ambassador, since the lines between the two are sort of blurred for them anyway. Plus, they already know who I am and that I’m a fighter, so posing as anything else would appear dishonest. His advice makes sense, and appears more in tune to their culture than what I would have chosen. I’m glad he’s here.

I stand at the back of the ship and take a deep breath before hitting the button to open the hatch.

The back of the pelican slowly opens and we step out into the Covenant hangar. As expected, we’re greeted with drawn guns, though it feels like they don’t plan to shoot. This is just a precaution. I slowly lift my hands above my head. I glance back at my brothers and friends and motion for them to do the same.

I’m doubly glad I listened to Tucker’s advice about the armor now. The only one in our group who’s unprotected is mom, and I can’t say I’d be too broken up about things if she got hurt. I look at her for a moment, seeing the emotionless look on her face as she stares at the floor, Gold hovering behind her threateningly. Once again I wonder if she’s putting on an act, or if we somehow managed to break her.

“I think it’s time for you to start talking,” I say calmly, directing the words at Tucker.

Tucker looks around at the aliens threatening us before focusing on one who appears to be a high ranking officer, judging by his armor. He begins by introducing himself and explaining that he’s a former ambassador between humanity and the Covenant, though this particular officer merely snarls for him to get to the point.

Tucker seems surprised by this reaction. He’d explained to me that the Sangheili are very honorable, and since their discovery of the Prophets’ lies, they’ve been more willing to listen to what others have to say. They’ve also been dealing with a civil war, though. It’s been beneficial in stopping them from tracking us down, but it may also explain this officer’s impatience. I hope it doesn’t make him less reasonable as well.

Tucker takes a moment to pull out his treasured sword, and I try not to show my apprehension, wondering what he could be thinking pulling a weapon in the middle of a negotiation. The warriors around us seem to have a different reaction to the weapon, however. Some of them look awestruck, as much by the sight of the weapon as who and what is holding it. Whispers spread through the room as the officer greets Tucker by a title I haven’t heard before, thought he sim-trooper looks pleased.

Tucker then moves on to explain about Dr. Han, who she is and what she’s done. The soldier barks an accusation at us, and unfortunately it’s one I recognize. I’ve heard it plenty of times before. He says we’re terrorists.

Tucker quickly denies this, saying that we were set up, and we all tried to stop each other from fighting when we found the truth. The officer sounds skeptical, but tells him to continue. Tucker begins telling the whole story, from our role as experiments to Dr. Han’s use of the control chips.

The group gathered in the hangar seems interested by the story, though I can’t tell if they believe it or not. I see the officer’s hands twitch over his rifle, crystalline pink needles catching the light as he moves, and I can only hope he’s considering putting the weapon away rather than filling my face with projectiles.

After Tucker finishes the story I hear him ask for someone, though I can’t make out who it is. The officer seems to consider his request for a moment before nodding and waving two of the soldiers away.

“Tucker,” I say, wanting some sort of explanation for where we stand right now. “What does that mean?”

“This guy’s in charge of all military aspects of this base,” Tucker explains. “But he really isn’t authorized to make decisions like this. I asked them to bring someone who could help us.”

“You asked for someone by name,” I say, having understood at least that much. “What’s going on?”

“You’ll see,” the sim-trooper says, sounding happy, though I can’t place why.

A moment later the hangar’s main doors open, and an alien wearing armor of a rank I don’t recognize steps through. I can tell he’s important, though, from the way the soldiers in the room react to him.

The newcomer steps past all the other soldiers and, after a few brief words, even bypasses the officer. He stops a few feet in front of our group, seeming to wait for something.

He doesn’t have to wait long. Tucker pushes past me to face him, holding his arms out to the side.

 “It’s been a while,” Tucker says, sounding happy.

The alien grunts out a word I don’t recognize before rushing forward. My hand’s almost to my gun before I realize that it isn’t attacking Tucker, but hugging him.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you too, little guy,” Tucker says, wrapping his arms as far as they’ll go around the hulking creature.

“Uh, Tucker,” Wash says, sounding as shocked as the rest of the aliens look. “What is this?”

It’s a long couple of seconds before Tucker and the Sangheili separate. “Guys, this is Junior,” the sim-trooper introduces. “He’s my son.”

I can hear the officer asking something similar of Junior, who answers with a phrase I mostly don’t understand, though I do catch the word ‘mother’.

“No, hey, we talked about this,” Tucker interrupts. “I’m your dad, Junior, not your mom.”

They fall into a bit of an argument which I mostly tune out. I edge closer to Wash while they talk.

“Did you know Junior was here?” I whisper to him.

Wash shakes his head. “I don’t think Tucker was really sure of it,” he answers thoughtfully. “He mentioned that there would be ambassadors here. Maybe he was hoping to find his son.”

“Maybe,” I say, smiling a bit as I watch the reunion. I’m glad Tucker was able to find his son. He seems happier now that I can ever remember seeing him, which is saying a lot for the carefree soldier. Still, I do hope we get back to business soon. We still have a lot to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Junior thinks Tucker's his mom because Tucker gave birth to him. I'm assuming the definition of 'mother' in their language would lead to some confusion, or maybe it's just a joke Junior likes to make. Either way, I'm just stoked to be able to bring him back.


	67. Remembering

Finding Junior quickly becomes one of the best things that’s happened to us. After listening to Tucker’s story about us, the Alien hybrid agrees to do whatever he can to help. It seems that this has as much to do with his loyalty to his father as it does his own beliefs about justice. I can see why Tucker’s so proud of him. Luckily, he apparently has a lot of influence among his people, due to his work to keep peace between humanity and his own people as well as the legend behind his father, so his word will hold some weight among his people.

Junior talks us through the complicated but surprisingly short trial process for the Covenant. He convinces me to lead a ship back to our home base and bring back some of the others, though he agrees to leave the kids and younger teens out of this, which I’m thankful for. They don’t need to be involved in this any more than they already are. Also, though I don’t want to say it, I don’t think they’d handle being in a Sangheili base very well. Past events have caused many of my younger siblings to fear the aliens. Though I’ve tried my best to help them past this, I’m still glad they can avoid contact with the Covenant for now.

It’s an oddly surreal feeling, returning to the Covenant base again. Nick is waiting for us in the hangar, eager to see both myself and Tinu, who insisted on coming despite my telling her that was already the plan. It almost feels normal, to have my brother greet us like this. It almost feels like home, if not for the alien base and the lack of a young, excited boy shadowing Nick.

I can almost feel my chest tighten a bit at the thought. I haven’t thought about Lico much in the past few days. There’s just been too much to do to give me time to think. If I’m honest, I’ve been glad of this. That failure still burns deep in my chest, somehow feeling worse than so many others. Perhaps it’s because Lico was so young, or the involvement of my clone, but I doubt if I’ll ever stop feeling an ache when I recall his name.

I whisper a quiet apology, knowing he would have wanted to be here. He probably would have insisted on coming as well, even if I was advised to leave kids at home. He always wanted to meet a Sangheili, and see what similarities and differences they shared with himself. I think he would have loved working with Junior.

Gold steps up to my side as I think this, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “I miss them too,” he says, having apparently read my thoughts without even seeing my face.

I nod, leaning into his side. “I’m sure they’re glad we made it here, though.”

“Boron and Neon probably made a bet about it,” he says. I smile at the joke despite the sadness it causes.

Boron seems to be standing right alongside Lico in my mind, another particularly painful failure of mine. The guilt I feel over him is even stronger than all the others, since he died by my own hand. I still don’t understand how Gold can stand to look at me, knowing what happened. I glance up at him and see the same pain I feel written on his face.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. I never apologized before. There was never a good moment, and when there was, it seemed like Gold stopped me somehow. Still, I feel it needs to be said. He needs to know that despite my attempts to hold myself together, I do feel remorse for my actions. I hate what I did.

“Don’t,” he says quickly, words harsher than I’m sure he intended. “I… I need to keep the blame on mom. I can’t let myself think it was you. So please, don’t apologize. I… I can’t handle that.”

I nod silently. There’s so much I wish I could say, but I know it’s useless. Nothing would ever be enough, or ever make it better, and he doesn’t want to hear it. I fear his willful denial will collapse someday, though. I don’t want to know what will change between us then.

Gold clears his throat and nods as well before backing away from me. “We should go find Junior,” he says, lacking his usual happy tone. “He said to talk to him once everyone’s here.”

I agree and motion for everyone to follow us. We’re about to leave the hangar when I realize Yttrium isn’t here.

“Where…?” I begin, spinning around as I look for her. I catch a glimpse of curly hair atop one of the alien ships and can’t help but smile. Simmons is standing at the base of the vessel, looking up nervously as some of the Sangheili guards approach. I begin to hear my sister’s muttered comments as I near the group.

“These designs are fascinating,” the mechanic says, sounding happy for a change. “I’ve never seen this kind of alloy before. Its conductive properties must be…”

“Y-yttri,” Simmons says hesitantly, looking at the alien guards. “I don’t think they want you up there.”

“They won’t mind if I take a peak,” she dismisses.

“I think they do mind,” Simmons counters a bit more forcefully, though the nervousness is still prominent in his tone. “You need to come down. Now.”

It’s the closest I’ve ever heard anyone come to giving Yttrium an order, aside from myself, and I half suspect she’ll either ignore it or yell at the sim-trooper. Instead she sighs and quickly slides off the top of the ship, landing in a slight crouch next to the maroon soldier. She glares up at the aliens who’d edge closer and loops her arm through Simmons’ before walking past me to join the rest of our family.

I smile as I watch them pass, Simmons looking bemused and Yttri wearing her usual scowl, though I can tell she’s actually very happy. I’m glad they’ve managed to bond like they have. She hadn’t been the same since her partner abandoned her during the attacks, but I think that’s changing. I’m glad my sister’s found a way to heal.

I’m sure the rest of our family can follow suit. If Yttri can find happiness, it must be possible for the others as well.

When we find Junior he motions for us to follow him. He explains that he’s taking us to tell our story to some sort of council. I wish once again that I knew more about their society, especially how it’s changed since the war. Junior tells me the council has already read the documents we brought and heard Dr. Han’s statement, as well as ones from Tucker and Wash. All they need now is to hear from our family and the rest of the sim-troopers before they make their final decision.

“Isn’t that a little fast?” Tinu asks as we pass through a long corridor.

“No, they’re pretty efficient about this stuff,” Tucker says. “Trials for these guys tend to not take very long.”

“What happens if they don’t believe us?” Yttri asks, an edge of distrust and suspicion in her voice.

“Well, considering what you’re accused of doing, they’d probably decide to execute you,” Tucker says. The answer doesn’t surprise me. I always knew that would be our fate if we couldn’t prove our innocence. “But we won’t let it come to that.” Junior then begins speaking, and Tucker translates for his son. “He says he believes you’re innocent. He won’t let you pay for another’s crimes, even if it means he has to break some rules.” Tucker grins. “He learned that part from me.”

“It’ll be fine,” Gold says reassuringly. “Worse comes to worse, we at least know how to run. For now all we can do is trust that they’ll hear us out.”

“Fine,” Yttri nods as we reach the door to the hearing chamber. “Are we going in together or alone?”

“One at a time,” Tucker answers. “They don’t want you guys influencing each other’s stories. Junior and I’ll be there to translate, though.”

“Makes sense,” she says, sounding slightly less sullen than before.

“They want you in first, Silver,” the teal armored soldier says, waving me toward the door. I glance back at the others quickly, eyes staying on Wash a moment longer than necessary, before following Tucker.

 _It’ll be fine_ , I tell myself. _Just recount every horrible memory you’ve ever tried to forget. Nice and easy. You can do it._ I begin to wish Manny was here and stop myself halfway through the thought. This will be hard enough without digging up that old pain.

Tucker directs me to a raised platform in the center of the room, and I see a half circle of similar seating areas facing it. Representatives of various species of Covenant are here, though it’s obvious the Sangheili are in charge. I wait as they give a small speech, listening to Tucker’s bored translation. Apparently he’s been through this part before. Once they finish, the sim-trooper directs me to begin my story.

I take a deep breath before diving in.


	68. Questions and Answers

For the most part, the council stays away from personal questions. They don’t pry into our day to day activities since the attacks or how our family works together. They begin by asking what I knew about the control chips before we were all implanted, and I relay the same lie mom told us all. They then ask what I remember of my time under her control, which is both very little and far too much. Next I am asked to recount the moment my mind was once again under my own control, and how I reacted. I tell of my attempts to break Gold of his own chip’s control before finally abandoning him to find the rest of my team.

I describe the setting when I got back to our old base and found the rest of my siblings, and I explain our decision to run afterward. I tell them of how we first formed our plan to catch Dr. Han, and when we first decided we needed to find the AI Epsilon. The next few months after that decision, which include finding the sim-troopers and eventually catching mom, are all wrapped up in a few small sentences. I have a moment to enjoy the irony of how quickly my life can be explained with words while the council decides if they have any more questions.

They whisper amongst themselves for a moment before voicing a request, which Tucker quickly translates. “Tell us about your brother, Gold,” he says.

I glance from him to the council. I’ve already told them his role in everything, and how he was being controlled the whole time. I’m not sure what else they need to know. “What about him?” I ask, trying to not sound as wary as I feel.

“Do you consider him honorable?”

“Yes,” I say instantly. “Gold is one of the best people I know. He was my partner for years. He cares about his family before anything else, but he also cares about doing the right thing. He wouldn’t have done any of this if it was his choice.”

One of the higher ranked Sangheili holds up a holo-pad with some documents on it, though I can’t tell what they say from here. He speaks as he does this, though I simply wait for Tucker’s translation.

“He says one of their scientists has been looking at the broken control chip you gave them,” Tucker says slowly. I glance his way and see that he looks unhappy with what he’s hearing. “They determined it works by… changing one belief someone has, then allowing them to choose their next actions for themselves. So they think Gold was forced to hate all Covenant, then he chose to kill them.”

“No,” I snap. “That’s not how it works. When that thing’s in your head… it’s like everything it tells you makes sense. You know it’s not right in some part of your mind, but you can’t control it. It makes you think whatever Dr. Han says is the right decision, and you do it without questioning.”

Tucker relays the message back. “I don’t think they believe you, Silver,” he says eventually. “They think Gold and Boron must have been in control of themselves in at least some small way, since they followed Dr. Han for so long.”

“They’re wrong,” I insist. “My brother is a good person,” I continue, looking up at the council pleadingly. “He hates what he was forced to do. He never wanted to hurt anyone. All he wants now is the chance at a normal life.”

There’s a brief moment where the council whisper amongst themselves, and all I can do is hope that they believe me. Then the Unggoy representative addresses me.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Tucker translates. “We’ll inform you of our decision after we’ve taken the time to talk to the rest of your family.”

I stand and leave with their dismissal, Tucker instructing me to send Nick in next. I frown and nod. I can’t be sure, but it didn’t sound like they trusted my opinion on Gold. Maybe they’ll change their mind when they talk to him. I hope they do. I don’t want to lose this chance at freedom that my family is so close to, but I know I would throw it all away in an instant to protect Gold.

 

* * *

 

 

I wait as each of my brothers and sisters here in the Covenant base speak to the council one by one. Most report having answered similar questions to what I did, though I notice none of them mention Gold. I’m worried about this. If they decide not all of us are innocent, I know there will be little chance of us escaping.

Finally, they call Gold in to talk, having apparently saved him for last. I shoot him an encouraging look as he walks past. I haven’t been allowed to talk to anyone who hasn’t been questioned yet, so I can’t warn him of the council’s suspicion.

I find myself pacing with my hands held nervously behind my back while waiting. The others are waiting in a room they provided for us, which I took a long time convincing Yttri wasn’t a cell, but I don’t want to go there yet. I want to be here the moment the council has finished with Gold.

After the first few minutes Wash arrives.

“Nick said you’re worried about something,” he says, clearly concerned.

“They think Gold might be guilty,” I say in a low voice, hoping to keep the conversation private.

Wash picks up on my desire for privacy and steps closer, ducking his head to be nearer my face. “What if they decide he is?”

“We can’t stay on the run forever,” I say, “but I know they’ll want to execute Gold, and I won’t let that happen. If they try to arrest him, we’ll have to run and hope for the best.”

“I don’t think it’ll come to that,” he says with fake confidence.

“Maybe,” I hum, glancing at the door my brother disappeared into. I sigh after a moment, hating that I can’t do anything about whatever will happen until it does happen. “How’s Rho?” I ask, trying to distract myself.

“Fine,” Wash says, still looking slightly uncomfortable at the thought of having an AI in his head. “She’s restless, though. I don’t think she likes having to stay quiet.”

“No, she does not,” I agree with a smile. She’s often times voiced her displeasure of having to stay silent during missions.

“She’s been helpful when she can, though,” he continues thoughtfully. “I’d certainly be lost more often if it weren’t for her.”

“She is an exceptional navigator,” I say teasingly, knowing she can hear me.

Wash seems to stare at a point just over my shoulder for a moment before finally cracking a smile. “She wants you to know she finds that insulting and that she has many more uses besides simple navigation.” I smile, imagining her matching my own joking tone like she always does. Wash’s eyes unfocus again before he speaks. “She has a question,” he informs me.

“What about?” I ask, glancing around. It’s already dangerous for us to talk too much about the hidden AI. If she’s caught, she’ll be taken and turned over to the UNSC, where she’ll most likely be deleted. Still, I know Rho is aware of the danger, so if she’s still trying to ask something it must be important.

“She wants to know what will happen to her once this is over,” Washington relays.

“In what way?”

Wash sighs, getting ready to hold a long conversation on her behalf. “She knows you all want to settle down on a colony somewhere when this is all sorted out. If you keep her, there’s no way you can carry her around and use her without people noticing. She thinks you’ll have to put her in storage or something, and she doesn’t want that.”

A sympathetic look crosses my face. The same thought has occurred to me in the past, and I’ve yet to think of a solution. “Maybe we’ll get one of those automated houses,” I suggest. “You could help run it.”

“She’d go crazy from boredom,” he says for her, and the answer’s so fast I wonder if he even waited for her opinion. “She was designed for combat, not housekeeping.”

“I don’t know,” I finally say. “There’s no good answer to this. I can’t keep the whole family out in space running around on adventures, especially not with all the kids, but I can’t see a way for you to fit into a domestic life.” I wait for her to relay a message through Wash, but he stays silent. “We’ll think of something,” I promise. “I’ll find somewhere you belong where you’ll be safe. Don’t worry.”

There’s a long pause, during which Wash tilts his head to the side as though he’s listening. “She says,” he finally starts slowly. “She wants you to remember that things don’t always work out perfectly, and you might need to be willing to let her go.”

“I won’t let anyone take you,” I say with conviction.

“But you don’t have to be the one to keep her,” Wash counters. “You said you want to let your family choose their own lives. All of them might not want to settle down.” Wash looks me in the eyes then, and somehow I can tell that the next words come from him, not the AI. “I know you want to keep your family together, including Rho, but that might not be the best thing. Some of them are grown up, and others might not be ready for the transition from your project to the civilian world. You’ll have to let them choose what’s best for themselves.”

I’m about to say something when the door behind me slides open. Gold steps out, followed by Tucker and Junior.

“They say they’ll have an answer soon,” the teal clad man says. “For now they want you to go back to your family’s room.”

“How do you think it went?” I ask, though Tucker simply shrugs before walking the other direction. I wonder for a moment where he’s going, though I suppose it isn’t my business. He and Junior have been trying to spend as much time as possible together since we arrived, and I assume this is just another one of those instances. They’ll be back when we need them.

“Those guys don’t like me,” Gold comments when we’re half way to the room.

“It’ll work out,” I say, hoping to sound reassuring as I wrap an arm around his shoulders. He leans into the simple embrace, which I’m sure looks comical with the height difference between us.

“They asked a lot about Boron,” he says quietly. I doubt Wash even heard from his place a few feet ahead of us. “I wish I could have seen him again, without mom controlling us. It’s been more than a year since we last talked as ourselves.”

I squeeze him tighter, not knowing what else to say. He’s still processing what’s happened. I know he should have time and space to deal with this, but that’s a luxury we don’t have. I hope waiting until all this is over won’t cause him any more pain than it already has.

I just want the family I have left to stay whole.


	69. Discussion

The Council’s made their decision. Unfortunately, that’s all that I know. I don’t yet know what that decision is. Tucker says they’ll make a public announcement within the next few hours. I don’t know if I can handle waiting that long.

I find myself pacing near the doors of the room they’ve provided for us. Tinu’s doing her best to keep everyone distracted, striking up conversations and trying to goad Yttri into some modified road trip game Donut taught her. She says it’s to keep everyone else from worrying, but I know it’s just to keep herself busy. She’s never been patient, and the importance of this news has her nerves on end.

Still, I know I ought to be helping Tinu with this. It’s my responsibility to take care of my family. I should be the one trying to keep them calm. Unfortunately, that would be difficult to do, since I myself am not calm right now. All I can do is pace, back and forth, scuffing a small path into the polished floor in front of the door as I wait.

I take five steps, turn on my heel, take five more steps; repeat the motion as the same thoughts and worries loop through my mind for the thousandth time. I only stop when, suddenly, on the third step in my pattern, I walk face first into Washington.

Before I have a chance to step back and try to recover from the impact, his arms loop around me, holding me securely to his chest. I recognize what he’s trying to do, so I take a moment of conscious effort to relax, slowly forcing some of the stress and tension to leave my spine. After a moment I do feel somewhat relaxed, though I know it could snap back to worry at any time.

“Calm yet?” Wash asks, lips tickling my scalp as he speaks.

“Somewhat,” I answer in a half sigh. I can see Tinu out of the corner of my eye, watching us with a wide grin on her face, like she’s just watched her favorite characters from a movie kiss for the first time. Nick, meanwhile, seems to be desperately trying to break her line of sight and give us some privacy. Yttri merely grumbles to herself as she steps out of the way of their fighting, dissecting some small device I can only guess she stole from a passing guard at some point.

I can’t help but smile at their antics, imagining the scene with them as children once again. It’s surprising how little they’ve changed in some ways. These thoughts, as well as the feel of Wash so close, help me to relax further, and I reach up and pull the Freelancer closer.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I just… I can’t stand the waiting. I hate knowing I have no control over this anymore.”

“We’ll deal with whatever happens,” he assures me. “You’re surrounded by people you trust. What could possibly go wrong?”

I hold in all the comments springing to my mind about the Covenant deciding to execute us. Instead I choose to look up at him with mock suspicion. “When’d you get so positive?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I’ve just been thinking about everything that’s lead up to now,” he explains. “I figure after all the stuff we’ve already survived, chances are we’ll make it out of this one too.”

“No one’s invincible,” I say seriously.

“But some are very lucky,” he argues with a smile.

I sigh. “My family doesn’t really have a great track record with luck.”

“Then we’ll combine efforts,” he insists. “Your skill with luck from the Reds and Blues. We’ll be unstoppable.”

I grin, though something about this sounds off. “How much of this is being influenced by Rho?” I ask after a moment.

“A little bit,” Wash admits. “Some of her speech patterns are bleeding over, at least. But she isn’t taking control,” he adds hastily, seeing the worried expressing beginning to overtake my face. “We’re just… meshing well, I guess. She’s a good AI; easy to get along with. I can see why it was so easy to pass her around your family.”

“Rho has an exceptionable ability to bond with people, even if their personality doesn’t match hers,” I agree. “I honestly think the Director would have liked her. She’d have been easy to pair with one of his agents.”

Before Wash has a chance to state agreement or argue the point, the door we’re standing in front of opens. A Sangheili of apparently low rank asks for me to follow him. When Wash moves toward the door as well, the alien makes it clear he was only sent to get me.

I place a hand on Wash’s shoulder and tell him I’ll be fine. He doesn’t look convinced but nods anyway, kissing my forehead before letting me go.

I follow the messenger out into the hall and soon find myself in front of a door leading to another wing of the facility. UNSC is etched in simple block letters on a plaque by the door.

“What is this?” I ask.

“Ambassadors,” the alien answers in rumbling but still understandable English. “They want to talk to you.”

“What do they want to talk about?”

The Sangheili gives a shrug and waves for me to go through the door. I do and see that there are several doors lining a hall, each leading to what appear to be small offices, all fairly human in design. Most look empty. I assume this area is meant to house human representatives if they ever come to visit. I see light coming from under two doors and make my way to them.

The first of the doors opens when I’m halfway down the hall.

“Ah, you must be Silver,” a man says as he steps through the door. He has an accent that I believe comes from England, though there are many colonies that have adopted the same sound of speech. I can’t quiet pinpoint his age, though the grey hair and aged features lead me to believe it’s a fairly high number. He sends me what I assume is meant to be a smile, though it doesn’t look natural on him, like his muscles don’t often move that way.

“Yes,” I answer warily, keeping my distance. “Who are you? Why’d you send for me?”

“I was hoping we could discuss your... future,” he says, waving for me to follow him as he turns back into the room. It doesn’t escape my notice that he ignored my first question. Still, I don’t see any reason not to at least hear what he has to say.

I follow the man into his office and sit in the chair he directs me to. He himself remains standing for a few more moments, rifling through some files in a cabinet behind me. I want to turn and watch him but don’t want to seem overly suspicious. I don’t know why, but something about this guy has me on edge. I don’t trust him, and I don’t like the feeling that he’s hovering just out of sight.

“Here we are,” he says as he finally reenters my field of vision. He’s holding a small stack of files, and I see my name on one. He takes a moment to settle into the seat behind his desk and arrange the papers before him. Once everything’s set in place, he finally acknowledges me.

“Now, Miss Silver,” he begins, looking at me with an expression that is, unfortunately, unreadable. “I’m sure you’re aware of the situation your… family is in.”

“Framed for attempted genocide,” I say. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“Of course,” he says with a soft smile. Somehow it makes me think he doesn’t believe our story. “And what are your plans for once this is resolved?”

“Living,” I answer. “We just want normal lives. We own some property on a colony world a few systems from here. I thought it’d be a good place to settle down and take care of my family.”

“Of course,” the man repeats. “I’m sure you know, however, that that might not be possible.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” I ask, trying my best not to sound hostile.

“Well, there are some legal issues regarding your creation,” he says. “Technically, you were created for the UNSC. You and your family are, for lack of a better term, our property.”

“Really?” I ask, voice edging toward a growl.

“Quite,” the man says. “The UNSC has put a lot of money into the project you came from. We’re loathe to let that go to waste. We have many programs running right now which use equipment from the old Samson Initiative projects. I think your family would fit well as agents for one of them.”

“Stop,” I say, holding up a hand to silence him. “That isn’t what’s going to happen here.”

“Well, that isn’t your decision to make, now is it?”

“Actually, it is,” I argue. “We’ve already fought for a long time to get this close to freedom. We’re not going to give that up this easily.”

“Is that a threat?” the man asks.

“More or less,” I say with a shrug. “We aren’t property. All we want is to disappear, away from the Covenant or the UNSC or anything else like that. I think it’s best for everyone involved if you let us do that.”

“This could become a very ugly fight if you resist,” he says. I think he means it as a warning, but all I hear is a threat.

“Then let’s not make it come to that,” I say. I stare at the man as he falls silent. He looks familiar, though I can’t remember where I’ve seen him before. “Who are you?”

“Malcolm Hargrove,” he answers, straightening his suit as he says it. “Former Chairman of the Samson Initiative’s Oversight Subcommittee.”

“That’s right,” I say thoughtfully. “You used to visit us in one of the old bases, to check on Dr. Han’s work.”

“And she always introduced you as her intern or assistant, I believe,” Hargrove says. “Did you ever wonder why she did that?”

I shake my head. “I assumed we weren’t ready, and she didn’t want you to know her experiments were going poorly.”

Hargrove chuckles a bit, leaning further back in his chair as he looks at a corner of the ceiling. “Her experiments were actually going extraordinarily well, better than we’d ever expected,” he corrects me. “Had we asked her to do make you, I’m sure we would have been delighted with the results. Unfortunately we did not.” He meets my eyes for a moment. “She was never authorized to make any soldiers, you see. We merely paid her to research the _possibility_ of creating beings such as yourself.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, feeling as though he’s leading to some point with this.

“It means you aren’t meant to exist,” he explains. “You were created illegally, without sanction. And there are currently no laws regarding the treatment of experimentally created beings.” He sighs and sits up straighter. “This puts me in a difficult situation. Given your actions lately, it would be impossible to keep you hidden from the public eye. This is a situation that needs to be cleaned up.”

“And you want to do that by making us work for you?” I ask. “We’d be little more than slaves.”

“You’d do the work you were made for.”

I shake my head. “It’s not work we want.” I fall silent for a moment, trying to think of a solution he’ll accept. “Dr. Han made us without the UNSC’s consent or knowledge, using mostly money she inherited from her parents,” I continue slowly. “We have no connection to you. The best option for you right now is to wash your hands of us and let us handle this on our own.”

“Too risky,” Hargrove dismisses immediately, shaking his head.

“It’s your only choice,” I declare. “Because we won’t work for you.”

He sighs again, appearing tired suddenly. “I suppose there is no way I can convince you otherwise,” he says hopelessly.

“None at all,” I answer.

“Very well then,” he says. “I suppose I’ll prepare a public statement of the UNSC’s connection to your family, allowing no connection between us and no help to be given from us to you.” I can’t help but feel he sounds bitter.

“I’m sure we’ll manage,” I say, standing and backing to the door. Part of me thinks that it’s too easy, and I’ll end up hearing more about this at some point. Still, something about Hargrove’s arguments seemed almost desperate, like he didn’t expect me to believe him in the first place. Whatever the case, I leave before he can say anything else.

I’m about to leave the wing altogether and go back to my family when I hear a woman’s voice behind me.

“Miss Silver?” she says questioningly.

“That’s me,” I say, turning to look at her.

“I’m Therese Spanner,” she says, holding out her hand in greeting as she approaches me. “I’m the one who sent for you.”

“You are?” I ask, glancing back at the office door behind me.

“Yes,” she answers, following my line of sight. “Were you just talking to Hargrove?”

“Talking’s one word for it,” I answer angrily, still remembering his threats.

Spanner sighs and shakes her head. “I’m sure whatever he said, while technically true, is information we’ve already chosen to overlook for the sake of your freedom,” she assures me. “The UNSC means you and your family no harm and, if anything, wishes to help you make a smooth and invisible transition into civilian life.”

“That sounds rehearsed,” I say in a deadpan voice.

“Oh, well, I… have been planning what I’d say to you for the past hour,” she admits, sounding slightly embarrassed.

I simply stare at her, wondering what kind of trick this might be.

“Please, if you’ll just hear me out for a moment, I’d like to discuss some opportunities with you,” she says, motioning for me to follow her to her office.

“What kind of opportunities?” I ask warily, still not following her.

“The kind you’ll like,” she promises with a smile.


	70. Departures and Offers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, but at least the chapter's longer than usual, so hopefully that makes up for it. Whether it does or not, please feel free to tell em what you think when you're done. Like most writers, I love feedback and criticism on my work, since it's really the only way to improve.

I sit in an office that’s an exact duplicate of the last. I realize that these two representatives probably aren’t stationed here, but were sent when we came with Dr. Han. I wonder what their goal is, aside from trying to recruit my family. I wonder if any of their discussions with the Covenant have involved mom. She used to work for them. I hope they’re smart enough to not want her back.

Spanner sits at the desk, whatever files she needs for this conversation already laid out before her. It’s clear she has been waiting for me, and I wonder why I didn’t think it was odd that Hargrove wasn’t ready for our supposed meeting. She folds her hands and rests them on the neat stack of papers, watching me.

“What do you want to talk about?” I ask after another moment of silence, ready to get this over with.

“Just one thing,” she finally answers, “an invitation.”

“What kind of invitation?” I ask warily, remembering the earlier threats.

“A place that may be able to help your family,” she replies. “Have you ever heard of the Spartan Academy?”

“No,” I say with a brief shake of my head.

“It was created shortly after Dr. Halsey’s Spartan program was shut down,” the woman explains. “When Dr. Halsey was arrested, it was discovered that she’d already begun training a new group of children to be Spartans. They… couldn’t just be sent back to their families, for numerous reasons. Most didn’t remember the life they’d had before, and none of them were in any state to try to live a civilian life.

“The Spartan Academy was created by a group of former UNSC scientists and psychologists who thought they could help these children. The facility is designed to train them for more normal lives, and help with any trauma they’ve undergone during Halsey’s experiments.” She pauses once she’s done, seeming o expect some sort of response.

“What does this have to do with us?” I ask. While it sounds like a good thing, if a bit of a publicity stunt, I don’t understand why she’d choose to inform me of this.

“The head of the Academy, as well as myself, believe many of your siblings may have sustained similar trauma to what the Spartans did,” she explains. “He asked me to extend an invitation to you and the rest of your family. Anyone who isn’t ready to enter normal society and who might benefit from time at the Academy is welcome.”

“No,” I say immediately, thinking this feels like a trap. “We don’t want to be involved in any more programs with the UNSC.”

“The academy isn’t run by the UNSC,” she says quickly. “It’s privately funded, and none of the staff are under UNSC pay. We’re not trying to manipulate you,” she promises. “They just want to help.”

I cross my arms and glare at her. “No,” I repeat. I won’t let someone split us up, and I won’t send my siblings away somewhere that some doctors can try to pick at them and change the way they think.

Spanner sighs, appearing tired. “Think about what’s best for them,” she urges me gently. “I’m sure you realize they’re not ready for a normal life. Fighting is all they’ve known. Do you think they’ll be able to go to a normal school without any problems?”

I want to say yes. I want to believe my family is capable of anything, and what’s happened can’t have affected them negatively. I know it’s not true, though. I’ve seen Rubi’s mood change since Lico’s death, drifting into depression that even Franc can’t seem to pull her out of. Franc’s been much the same. Rhodi and I haven’t spoken in days, which is odd even when we’re busy. Iodine’s been far from himself as well. And now that I think about it, I realize that each of them have either grown distant or changed in some other way. This journey has taken a toll on us all. Despite my best efforts, I haven’t been able to stop it, and I doubt I can fix it alone.

Spanner recognizes my thoughtful silence for the acceptance it is. “They need this,” she says. “If you really want them to have a chance, then you need to do this for them. They deserve it, Silver.”

I lock eyes with her, searching for any form of deception or malice. “I’ll think about it,” I finally concede. It isn’t a promise, and I know she won’t take it as one. I still fully expect to reject the offer after having thought.

“I suppose that’s all I can ask,” she says. She grabs a small stack of papers off her desk and passes them to me. I reach out and take them with some hesitation. “This is everything you could need or want to know about the academy, at any rate,” she explains.

I nod and mutter a quiet thanks, eyes already scanning over the top page. I recognize a few of the names of the doctors, though most are foreign to me. I plan to look all of them up later.

“Was there anything else you need?” I ask, glancing up at Spanner once again.

“No,” she says, standing to see me to the door. We exchange the usual pleasantries of her thanking me for coming and me thanking her for the offer, though we both know it’s rehearsed and empty. Once I’m out of her office I leave that section of the ship as quickly as I can. I never was a fan of meetings like that.

I run into Junior and Tucker on my way back. I think I’ll thank them again for how much they’ve helped us, but pause before I get the chance. They both appear nervous, huddled close as they have a quiet conversation. I don’t think they’ve even realized I’m there; they’re too focused on their discussion. I try to catch what they’re talking about while I approach, but even with my slightly enhanced hearing it’s too quiet, and I never was good at understanding Sangheili when whispered.

“Hey,” I say when I’m only a few feet away from the pair, finally catching their attention.

“Silver,” Tucker exclaims, sounding both surprised and relieved. He steps away from his son and approaches me quickly. “We need to talk, now,” he says, motioning for me to follow him down the corridor without much explanation.

“What’s going on?” I ask, surprised by his serious tone. I’ve only ever seen him behave like this a few times, and none of them were good situations.

Tucker doesn’t answer until he finds and empty room and drags me inside. I see Junior station himself in front of the door just before it closes. Tucker checks around the room quickly before finally deciding that it’s safe to talk.

“Junior heard what the council’s decided,” he begins quickly. “He wasn’t supposed to know yet, but somehow he found out. It doesn’t matter,” he adds, shaking his head dismissively before he can start on the tangent. “He said they’re going to arrest Gold,” Tucker blurts finally.  

“What?” I ask, hoping I misheard something during the hasty words.

“One of their scientists decided it isn’t possible for someone to be controlled for as long as Gold was,” Tucker says more slowly, voice indicating a certain disdain for this random doctor. “They think Gold and Boron must have actually chosen to work with Dr. Han, and deserve the same punishment she’s getting.”

“And they’re going to kill her,” I guess, knowing enough about Covenant laws to realize it’s the only fitting punishment for her crimes.

“Exactly,” Tucker says. “We only have a few more minutes before the announcement goes out to all the soldiers here. When that happens, they’ll arrest him, and they won’t wait long for the executions.”

“Is there any chance to change their minds?” I ask, knowing the answer before I even speak.

Tucker simply shakes his head. “I asked Junior. He said your best option is to run.”

I sigh and nod. “I need to get back, then,” I say, turning toward the door. I force myself to stay calm. I’m used to acting without pause in these sorts of situations. I’ll let any anger I feel toward the Covenant show through once we’re all safe. “It might be hard to get all of us out of here, especially if the Covenant are still guarding our ship.”

“Junior might be able to clear out the hangar,” Tucker offers, following me out into the hall. He has a brief exchange with Junior before the alien runs off. “We have to do this as fast as possible, though,” he adds.

I agree, trying to get back to my quickly as I can without looking suspicious. I try to control the feeling that every second we aren’t moving is a second closer to something terrible happening. I finally get to the room and burst through the door, shutting it quickly behind myself while Tucker keeps an eye out in the hall.

“We need to move,” I announce, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Why?” Wash asks, though he doesn’t waste an instant gathering whatever belongings we have with us.

“They think Gold’s guilty,” I state, going on to explain what Tucker already told me.

“That’s not true,” Gold says, sounding hurt and insulted that anyone would think he chose his actions. “I would never try to kill innocent people, or my family.”

“I know,” I say. “But they don’t believe it. We need to get out of here before they arrest you.” I grab his arm and try to pull him to the door but am surprised when he doesn’t move.

“What about you guys?” Gold asks. “And everyone else back at our base? The Covenant only want me. If we all run, they’ll think we’re all guilty. I can’t take away their chances at a normal life.”

“We’ll be fine,” I say quickly.

“No, you won’t,” Gold argues. “You’re the one who always said we can’t keep running forever. And you’re right. All of you deserve a chance at a normal life.”

“We’re staying together,” I say adamantly. “I won’t let us split up.”

“That’s not your call, sis,” he says, a sad smile on his face. “If the Covenant think I’m guilty, then they probably think I’ve been tricking you the whole time since you caught mom. If I leave and you all stay, then it’ll confirm their theory. They’ll still think you guys are innocent. You don’t have to give up your chance at freedom.”

“But we just got you back,” I argue. “And we said we’d all stay together.”

“You know as much as I do that that would never happen,” he replies gently. “We’re each going to live our own lives, and they might not all match up. Some of us might move away. We’re all gonna grow up. What’s the difference if I leave now?”

“I don’t want you to go,” I answer simply. I can’t say the rest of my thought; that I already lost Manny, and I thought I lost Gold once before, and if he leaves I may never see him again, and I can’t lose another partner. Our family already feels so broken; I don’t want anyone else to leave.

“I know.” Gold steps closer and speaks softly, so I know only he and I can hear. “But I can’t stay here, Si. I… I just keep thinking about Boron, every second I’m with you. And I know you didn’t mean for him to die. You didn’t mean it. But I can’t help seeing you and remembering that he’s gone. I’m trying to forgive you, I just… I need some space, Silver.”

I hear the pain in his voice. I can sense that he’s torn. He loves me, I know he still does, but at the same time he knows I killed Boron. I understand that’s a touch feeling to get past. Still, I wish he didn’t want to leave. I want us to work it out together.

It hurts, knowing that he hasn’t actually forgiven me yet. I haven’t forgiven myself, but I’d thought he didn’t hold it against me. I wonder if he’ll ever truly come to terms with what I did. I just hope things will be the same between us some day.

“There’s no time to argue,” he says more loudly, so everyone else can hear as well. “I’m going. Alone.”

“Not quite,” Nick says, stepping forward.

Gold raises his eyebrows as the older looking man steps forward, but he doesn’t try to warn him away. “You coming?” he asks his former teammate, apparently having no objection. I begin to wonder if they discussed this already.

“None of us seem to do very well on our own,” Nick commented. “And I kind of like the idea of one more adventure.”

“I’m coming too,” Tinu says, stepping up to Nick’s side and grabbing his arm. “If you’re going then I am too.”

“You should stay,” Nick tells his sister.

“We’re partners,” Tinu argues, sounding petulant and scared and like the thought of Nick leaving is worse than death. “We don’t split up ever, so I’m going with you.”

“Not this time,” Nickel states, managing to sound gentle and commanding all at once. “You’ve got all your plans and dreams to follow. I don’t want to keep you from them.” Tinu begins to protest before he grabs the hand on his arm and folds both his own around it. “We both know I’ve only got a few years left,” he says.

“That’s not true,” Tinu says in a distressed tone. “You- you’ve got plenty of time. Rhodi said-“

“Rhodi said I’ll live fifteen more years,” Nick agrees. “But most of those I won’t be able to fight. I don’t have the chance to build a life like you have. Hell, I’ll be lucky if I’m not bedridden in five. I just want to have some fun with the time I have left.”

“But we can do that together,” she insists, tears forming in her eyes.

“You shouldn’t put your life on hold for me,” he repeats, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. I can tell by the way Tinu’s chin beings to tremble that she’s finally done arguing. “You said you and Donut are going to start a clothing store. Make sure it’s ready to show off when I visit.”

“I will,” she promises, pulling him into a tight hug. She sniffles as she buries her face in his shoulder. “You just make sure to come back,” she practically begs. When she lets her partner go she stands up straight, making an effort not to cry. She’s failing.

“Promise,” Nick agrees before joining Gold by the door. The two look back into the room awkwardly for a moment before reaching for the controls.

“Wait,” Wash says. For a moment I hope he’ll change their minds somehow. I think I might not be saying good bye to my brothers. Then I see him reach for the AI slot on the back of his neck, and I realize what he’s doing. “She wants to go too,” he explains as he removes Rho’s chip from his skull.

“Is she sure?” Nick asks as Gold tenses.

Wash nods, holding the chip out to them. “Rho’s designed for battle and navigation, and civilians aren’t legally allowed to own AIs,” he explains. “She doesn’t want to hide somewhere, and she thinks she can help you.”

“Of course she can,” Nick agrees. “Rho’s the smartest AI I know.” He notices Gold’s hesitation after a moment and accepts the AI himself. It’s no surprise Gold wouldn’t be willing to carry her. After spending so much time with mom controlling him, he probably doesn’t want anyone else in his head.

Nickel quickly puts the chip in the empty slot in his own neck. After a moment the AI appears at his shoulder. She faces me and I can somehow tell from her body language that she’s sad.

“Take care of them?” I request, trying to avoid saying goodbye to her.

“Of course,” Rho agrees, nodding. She glances around the room before settling her eyes on me again. “Don’t get lost without me,” she adds, a humorous twist to her voice.

“I’ll do my best,” I promise. I wish I could hug her or something, make some sort of parting gesture, but all I’m capable of is waving. I can see by the way her hands clench at her sides that she feels the same.

“Bye,” Rho finally whispers before pulling her attention away from me. “Ready?” she asks, glancing between Nick and Gold.

“Ready,” they agree. I watch as they leave, recognizing the small reluctance to their steps before the door shuts behind them. I stare at that door for a long time, wishing it would open and they’d still be there.

After a few minutes of silent staring an arm wraps around me. “They’ll be okay,” Wash says assuringly, holding me to his side.

I nod. “I know,” I whisper. “They’re smart, and capable, and they have Rho to look out for them. I just don’t want to see them go.”

“You wanted them to have a chance at a life they’d choose,” he points out. “They chose this. It could be worse.”

“Yeah,” I say, though I know I don’t sound very convinced. He sighs and kisses the top of my head, and I lean further into his embrace, glad for that support.

“Come on,” he says, urging me away from the door and further into the room. “Tinu probably wants some company right now.”

It’s less than a minute before we hear the base’s alarms sound. I know there will probably be some additional questioning soon, to determine if we helped Gold escape. I don’t worry too much about it. If we’ve made it this far, we can make it through one more lie.


	71. That's a Wrap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of Chemical Imbalance. Don't panic, though. There are already sequels in the works. The first chapters probably won't be posted for a few more weeks, since I want to get a few ready and have some room to breathe with it, but they will come eventually. There is still a lot planned in this universe.

It isn't hard to convince the Covenant we didn't know about Gold and Nick. They already believed Gold was still working for mom. It's simple enough to say Rho is too. I'd already told them before that we lost her on a mission, and now I explain further that Nick had been the one holding her, and he'd claimed she was taken by Gold. It doesn't take much to hypothesize that he was lying, and he let Gold take her because they were working together. It's easy to convince them, but it's not easy to say. It's not easy to know that I'm branding them as traitors, in order to ensure their freedom.

We each play our parts well, my family and I as well as the reds and blues; each feigning confusion over Nick and Gold's disappearance, and agreeing with the theories the Council presents us with. In the end, it's decided that they're both traitors, and that Rho's gone rampant, and it's none of our faults. I hate that I have to let them believe it.

I know there are already teams looking for Nick, Gold, and Rho. They're still considered war criminals, guilty of terrible crimes. Still, the trial for mom goes quickly. It's important to the Covenant that she faces justice without any further delays.

They sentence Dr. Han to execution, as I knew they would. Too many of them died for her to merely be kept in a prison, and that isn't really their way. The event will be broadcast to every Covenant world and fleet throughout the galaxy. We're invited to watch, me and my family. Most of my siblings refuse, simply wanting this to be over. I'm the only one who chooses to attend. It's not that I want to watch her die, though. I just know I won't believe she's gone unless I see it for myself.

I'm reminded once again just how small humans are, when she's lead to the podium. Her Sangheili escort is at least two feet taller than her, and the grunts screaming to her from every direction are nearly as tall as she is. Compared to all of them, humans are this and frail. And yet, somehow,  _she_  doesn't look small. Her back is straight, shoulders high, and her hair is still in that smooth, flawless bun I always remember.

It doesn't surprise me that she maintains her dignity, even now. Emotions were never useful to her in any point of her life, so why would she show one like defeat now? It's much more fitting that she walks the ways she does, like she's better than any of the aliens around her.

Once she reaches the podium, her charges are read, as well as her sentence. She doesn't try to argue. Dr. Han simply accepts that it's true, when they accuse her of wanting every Covenant species to be extinct. This statement is greeted with screams of rage from the crowd, and the execution commences.

It seems like her eyes are fixed on me as the electric cuffs are secured to her wrists. I know this can't be the case. I'm too far away, behind the whole crowd of screaming, jeering, riotous Covenant. She doesn't really see me. She can't, not with normal humans eyes. She's simply staring ahead, ignoring the fate about to befall her.

Still, the moment the cuffs turn on, I'm sure her eyes lock onto mine. It's just for a moment, but I'm sure it happens. Green irises, nearly identical to my own, reflected across the vast space of the room, before they finally shut in pain.

I don't look at her, once it starts. I stare at the crowd gathered behind the stage, trying to tune out the screams. They aren't screams of anger or even anguish. There are no pleas for mercy. There's simply a primal, pain filled sound that can signal only death. It's a few long moments before this noise finally stops, and Dr. Han falls limp to the ground. The crowd cheers. I simply stand and leave, glad this is finally over.

* * *

I hear the sharp slap of skin against skin, followed by a high pitched shout. I look over my shoulder to see Franc and Rubi playing, the boy clapping to let her know where he is while she chases with her eyes closed, squealing in playful delight every time he slips through her fingers. I smile, watching them run through the grass of Valhalla. I decide that this is a good place. It's good that they can play somewhere that isn't a lab.

I look up from them to the base on the other side of the canyon, and the city beyond that. I've been told it's called Pantheon. Most of my siblings want to live there, which seems appropriate to me. This planet is just starting to be settled. It seems like a good place to start our lives. And it just so happens to be the home of the Spartan Academy, which is convenient.

After a lot of thought and research, and carefully discussing it with everyone, we decided the academy would be the best place for the kids. The rest are already there, and Tinu's going to take Franc and Rubi tomorrow. I hate sending them away, but it's close enough that we can visit from the city, and I know they'll get the help they need there. I just hope all the kids understand that too.

Everyone else seems to be working out their own plans for the future as well. Simmons and Yttri are standing on the other side of the base's rooftop, side by side as they talk. Donut and Tinu are on a rock by the riverside, expressions more serious than I've ever seen them before as they discuss the clothing store they plan to open. Sarge and Caboose, of all people, are off a little ways, seeming to be deep in conversation, or as deep as a conversation can get with Carbon. I haven't seen Wash in a little bit, but I suspect he's somewhere inside the base, looking for anything left over from his time here in the past. I take a moment to enjoy this sight of my friends and family starting off their futures. I feel bad for Nick, Gold, and Rho for a moment, but push the feeling away. I know they'll be okay, and I suspect they're happy with this outcome. None of them really liked the idea of settling down anyway.

All in all, it looks like everything's going to be okay here. I just have one more thing to take care of.

* * *

Simmons rambles excitedly as he explains his plans. "That guy from the city's council said they've wanted to buy this property for a long time, ever since they started building. The generators in the base were built by the forerunners, and they could potentially power half the planet. I was thinking if we sell power to them, we could make enough money to start our own company!"

"That sounds like a pretty good plan," Yttri says, threading her fingers through his.

Simmons pauses, swallowing down a lump in his throat at the sudden contact. He still isn't used to that, and doubts he'll ever be. "A-anyway," he continues nervously. "We should be able to incorporate the bases into the main facility, though if more cities get settled around here, we'll need headquarters in each. I was thinking aside from selling energy, we could have some sort of research and development aspect to the company. Design new tech and stuff like that."

"Really?" Yttri asks, facing Simmons as she steps a bit closer to the redheaded man. She rests a hand on his armored arm, hearing the mechanisms in the prosthetic working as he shifts.

"Yeah," Simmons squeaks.

"Sounds to me like you'll need some sort of inventor to help with that," the curly haired woman explains, reaching up to pull his helmet off.

Simmons gulps. "W-would… would you be willing to?" he asks hopefully.

Yttri hums thoughtfully as she lets the maroon piece of armor drop to the ground. "One condition," she finally decides.

"What's that?" Simmons whispers, sure he'll start hyperventilating any second.

There's a brief flash of a grin before lips are suddenly pressed to his own. Simmons spends a moment too shocked to do anything before tentatively placing a hand on her shoulder and pulling her closer. His last thought before Yttri pulls away is that she smells a bit like motor oil, and he finds it oddly fitting.

"More of those, as well as a share in the company, and I'm all yours," she bargains, eyes full of mischief and something that makes Simmons a bit terrified, though he thinks it's in a good way.

"Deal," he says instantly. She pecks his lips again, and this time he's sure his bran short circuits. "You, uh, know Grif's going to own part of the company too, right?" he babbles without thinking.

"Really?" Yttri says, pulling back a bit and slipping her hands into his hair.

"Y-yeah," Simmons stammers. "He owns the property too, so anything I do with it has to involve him. I'm pretty sure he's going to let me run everything, though. That slob wouldn't know how to help anyway."

"Sounds like a great deal," Yttri says. "He'll get money without having to work for it, and you'll get to run the company without his interference."

"And you get somewhere to work on your inventions," Simmons adds proudly, glad he'll get to keep her close while she does what she loves.

"And you," Yttri says, leaning close to whisper it in his ear. "I also get you, cyborge." She tries not to laugh at the shade of red that spreads through his cheeks.

* * *

Nick's eyes flick over the controls in front of him, momentarily glancing to the man in the pilot's seat from time to time. "Where are we going?" he asks for the third time in the past hour. He's all for running from the Covenant and finding an adventure, but he'd like to know what the plan is.

"Spore," Gold answers distractedly. "I figure he'll be able to help us find a job."

"Last I remember, Spore doesn't live anywhere near here," Nick points out.

"I've tracked him to a small storefront on the Malevolent Depths," Rho supplies. "We're going the opposite direction from there," she adds when Gold doesn't adjust their course.

"There's something I need to do first," the blonde says, refusing to look over at them.

"Gold," Nick says carefully. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," he snaps before taking a deep breath. He lets it out as a sigh. "Yeah, I'm fine," he assures. "It's just… this is important to me. Please, just trust me."

"Alright," Nick agrees, leaning back in the copilot's seat. He's beginning to suspect where they're going anyway, and if he's right, then he knows why Gold cares so much. He'll trust his brother.

Less than an hour later they're landing in a very familiar hangar in a frozen base. Nick steps through the pelican's bay doors and has a moment of déjà-vu, remembering standing in this very position while Tinu was crouched behind some boxes a few feet away, fighting Gold. He glances at his brother who's now fully in control of his own mind and smiles.

Gold doesn't waste a second before sprinting further into the base. Nick does his best to keep up, though he soon loses track of the faster man. Rho provides him a map of the base, as well as a mark on his HUD to track Gold.

They finally catch up to him in the middle of a long corridor. A dimly glowing and heavily damaged man canon and scorched, partially blown out wall show that there was once a fight here. Gold is kneeling by an old pool of blood, looking lost.

"He's gone," he says, muttering it to himself like he doesn't believe it.

Nick steps around him and sees where Boron once lay, streaks of blood showing where he was dragged down the hall. The trail fades out after a few feet, but there's no body.

"I'm sorry, Gold," he says, resting a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"We have to find him," Gold decides, standing again. "Mom had a bunch of monsters here. She let them all loose when you attacked. One of them must have gotten Ron."

"Gold," Rho says carefully.

"I'm not leaving him," Gold says in a near shout. His next words come as almost a whisper. "I can't just leave him here like this. He at least deserves a burial. Please."

Nick nods agreement. "We'll help you look," he promises, beginning to follow the trail. He knows Gold hasn't taken his partner's death well. He hopes laying Boron to rest will help him somehow. He knows it won't really do anything in the end, but he thinks Boron deserves it, after everything he went through. It's really all they can do for him now.

* * *

Grif is standing on the small beach behind the base, grumbling about how the waves are pathetic here, as I approach.

"Ready to go?" I ask, catching his attention. The orange armored man glances over his shoulder before looking back out over the water.

"Go?" he asks in confusion, helmet tucked under his arm. His hair shifts a bit as the wind blows across the water. "Go where?"

"To find you sister," I explain. "I made a promise, remember? My family's all taken care of now. It's time to find yours."

"Wait, you're serious?" Grif asks, turning to face me fully.

I nod. "If you still want to find her, that is."

"Of course I do," he says suddenly. "I just… I don't even know where to start. Lopez said he shot her. At least, I think that's what he said. He's kind of hard to understand sometimes."

"We'll start where you last saw her, in Blood Gulch," I say. "From there, we'll figure something out. She can't have just disappeared."

Grif nods agreement. "Do you think she's still alive?" he asks, voice carefully void of any feeling. I know the tone well. I've used it enough times myself, when I don't want to sound too hopeful and disappoint myself.

"I think we won't know until we look," I answer. I don't want to promise anything. I know the chances of someone surviving this long alone, especially if they're in a barren canyon without any supply drops. Still, I know how it feels to not know what's happened to someone you love. There are still a lot of my own siblings who are missing, like Yttri's partner Helium, and Titanium and Hydrogen. I'd give anything to be able to find them, and I know Grif must feel the same about his own sister, even if he's trying not to show it.

"Well, let's get started then," he says, showing more energy than I'm used to seeing in him. "I want to get this done soon, so I can keep an eye on Simmons. These bases belong to both of us, and I don't trust him to use their power wisely on his own."

"You would run this company into the ground!" came Simmons shout from the other side of the base.

"There is no fucking company yet, you neurotic nerd!" Grif shot back. There was a moment of silence. "What? No come back?"

"I'm just shocked you know the word 'neurotic'," Simmons admitted, sounding a bit awestruck.

Grif makes an apathetic noise as he gestures rudely in the base's general direction. "Well, what are we waiting for?" he asks, looking at me again. "Let's go find Kai."

I agree and we start making our way to the pelican in the middle of the valley. Wash is standing by the bay door when we arrive.

"You're leaving?" he asks before I have a chance to speak, face neutral. Grif continues into the ship, head ducked as he tries his best to ignore us while muttering something about awkward couple conversations.

"I have a promise to keep," I say with a slight shrug. I don't know how else to explain. I told Grif I would do this, and I'm not ready to stop yet. There's still more I need to do. I still have people I need to find. I plan to look for them as well while I'm gone.

"Do you want some help?" Wash asks, stepping closer.

I shake my head, knowing I'd love to have him with me, but I need him here. "I think I've got this covered," I answer.

"Si," Wash starts. I hold up a hand to silence him.

"I need someone to keep an eye on them," I explain. "My family's never been civilians before. They don't really know how. I want to be here to help them settle in, but the longer we wait, the colder this trail gets. I don't really have a choice but to go now."

Wash nods reluctantly for a moment, knowing I have a point even though he hates to admit it. "It's been a long time since I've been considered a civilian," Wash says thoughtfully. "But I'll try to help them. I'll do whatever I can. I promise."

"I know you will," I say as I smile up at him. "I trust you, Wash."

I start to walk past him to the ship when he grabs my wrist. "Wait," he says quickly. I'm about to ask what's wrong when he pulls me forward and kisses me, hand sliding to the back of my neck as he holds me to him. I return the embrace, one hand on his shoulder as the other finds the back of his head. There's a quiet mutter from Grif about us getting a room before the back of the pelican closes, locking him away from the sight.

Wash and I hold like that for a drawn out moment before he eventually pulls away. "So you'll remember to come back," he whispers in explanation, thumb caressing over my cheek as he cups my face.

"How could I ever forget?" I return, pressing my forehead to his. A moment later there's a muffled shout from inside the ship, signaling Grif's impatience to get going, though he phrases it as boredom. I laugh, feeling foolishly giddy for a moment, and step back from Wash. It takes less than a second and a deep breath for my face to turn serious again.

"I will come back," I promise, seeing a hint of fear in his eyes. He's lost people before. He's used to people leaving. He doesn't want that to happen again. "You're here, and my family's here, and the reds and blues are here. There's nowhere else I'd rather be. So of course I'll come back," I reason.

Wash nods, hands finally falling away from me. "Just be careful," he says. "Things are never as simple as they seem with these guys."

"Through no fault of their own," I assume, remembering the stories about the lucky idiots from Blood Gulch.

"Exactly," Wash laughs. "Just be ready for anything."

"I always am," I assure, smiling at him. There's a few moments of awkward silence, neither of us wanting to be the one to finally turn away, before the pelican opens again.

"For the love of god," Grif mumbles, grabbing my arm and tugging in the direction of the vehicle. "Enough with the teenage love stuff. Just say goodbye and let's go." He seems to give up after a few halfhearted tugs, deciding actually dragging me to the ship is too much work, and instead chooses to glare at me until I leave.

"Not goodbye," I say adamantly, looking at Wash. "Just later."

"Later," he agrees.

I press a last, quick kiss to his lips before finally walking into the ship, knowing if I wait another second I won't be able to leave. I don't look back as I walk up to the cockpit, trusting Grif to seal the bay door instead. Once I'm in the pilot's seat I waste no time in starting the engine and taking off.  _Just one last mission_ , I tell myself.  _Then it's just a normal life for you and your family… and Wash._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to everyone who's read and followed this story. I couldn't have done it without the encouragement.


End file.
